Two Crows Joy
by MadLori
Summary: Sequel to Human Interest. Jack and Ennis deal with their newly expanded household as the holidays approach, bringing visitors and new developments.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** This is a **SEQUEL** to my story "Human Interest." If you have not read "Human Interest," please do so before beginning "Two Crows Joy." "Human Interest" is available right here at Just click on my username to find it quickly. Be advised it's a bit of a time commitment, as it's 24 chapters long._

For those of you who've been along for the ride so far, welcome to the sequel! I'm very excited about it, and I have some fun things planned for Our Heroes. Please be advised that I do NOT expect this story to be written as quickly as "Human Interest" was. I don't know what kind of crack-fueled wild ride I was on that I spewed out 140,000 words in six weeks, but I can't keep up that level of output indefinitely. I expect a more reasonable schedule of one chapter per week, possibly two chapters per week if I get inspired. I thank you for your continued support and your patience. I hope this new story lives up to your expectations.

I'm sorry that I have not been able to respond to all of the comments and private emails I've been sent in response to "Human Interest." Rest assured that I have received, read and appreciated every single piece of feedback you have left me, no matter what form it took, and I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart. It's your feedback that gives me motivation to continue and keeps my creative energy flowing. By encouraging me and giving me this outlet for fun writing, you're helping me not only to write stories like this, but also to stay motivated to write my original work, which I (and my agent, with her ten percent slice) hope will get me into a bookstore near you before too long. If I sell this godforsaken book and get to write an Acknowledgments section, all of you are going in it. 

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**One crow sorrow, two crows joy**  
**Three crows a girl, four crows a boy**  
**Five crows silver, six crows gold**  
**Seven crows a secret never to be told**  
**Eight crows a wish, nine crows a kiss,**  
**Ten crows a time of joyous bliss.**

**_--American folk rhyme_**

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(from the "Columns" section of the New York Post, December 2, 1983)

_**CITY GAL  
Adventures of an Urban Expatriate**  
by Liz Baskerville_

My name is Liz, and I'm an urban expatriate.

I live and work on a cattle ranch in a small New England town. I swear to God, this is where they come to shoot postcards. There are white church steeples, flags waving on Main Street and concerts in the town square. Kids play stickball on the quiet residential streets and every Sunday there's a brunch picnic at someone's farm. Sometimes it feels surreal, like an episode of "The Twilight Zone." I keep waiting for the facades to be pushed aside to reveal the seamy underbelly, but behind the bucolic exterior all I've found so far is an equally bucolic interior.

A year ago I was just like you. I wore my tennis shoes to pound the pavement from my sixth-floor walkup to my office, carrying my pumps in my bag. I'd grab what I now laughingly call a "lunch break" at my desk, wolfing down a salad and mainlining Diet Coke. I'd elbow my way into crowded subway cars, shove through crowds of pedestrians, and risk life and limb hailing taxicabs. Even so, I loved my life. It was exciting. I felt energized by the city, and it made me feel so hip and urbane.

But now that it's gone, I don't miss it.

I came here last summer to do a brief story, and that's all I expected. How I came to _live_ here is a story in itself. The short version is that just after my visit, my life fell apart in spectacular fashion. The men who own the ranch where I now live, Jack and Ennis, picked me up off the floor and helped me reassemble myself. I don't know what I did to deserve their friendship, but they've made me part of their family and their business. I work in the office, and I live in a bungalow on the property with Junior, Ennis's college-aged daughter. I have my own horse, and I can ride her whenever I like. I eat a home-cooked meal almost every day. Peter, my gentleman friend, is the local country doctor…and yes, he makes house calls. The mayor drops by to have a beer from time to time, and if we're feeling sociable, we all head down to the river park and eat sandwiches on the grass while we watch the kids play Frisbee. I'm learning things I never thought I'd want to know, like how to knit and make homemade bread. Jack is teaching me how to fly-fish, and Ennis is teaching me how to shoot straight.

When the sun goes down, I can see every star at night. Sometimes Peter and I drive up to the highest hill in town and lie on the roof of his car so we can look upwards into the heavens until everything spins and it feels like we're shooting up towards those lights. When I go to sleep at night, the only sounds I hear are the cattle and the crickets, and when I wake up in the morning, all I smell is coffee.

It's Ennis who calls me "city gal." He means it jokingly, but he's not wrong. I am a city gal, and I'm still getting used to all of this. Nothing that's happened to me has been what I expected, and each week in this space, I'll hope to share something of it with all of you who are still living that city life that I never thought I wouldn't miss.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

* * *

_**December, 1983**_

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* * *

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Ennis came in the front door, stomping the snow from his boots in the tiled foyer. He could barely feel his nose. He'd been out in the stables most of the day and had spent all evening attempting to clear the snow from the porch and the steps. Unfortunately, it turned out that underneath the afternoon's snowfall was several inches of impacted, half-melted-and-refrozen ice which had eventually driven him to forsake his snow shovel in favor of a garden spade. His shoulders were aching and his hands felt like frozen claws.

Liz was coming into the living room, carrying a mist vaporizer. "There's cocoa on the stove if you want some."

Ennis looked down at her. "How is he?"

She sighed. "No better." She put down the vaporizer. "Ennis, I really think I ought to call Peter…"

"No need t'call a doctor jus' for the flu," Ennis said, flapping a hand. "Ain't nothin' he c'n do about it."

"I don't know. I'm worried it might turn into pneumonia. His breathing sounds bad to me. And he still has a fever."

Ennis considered this. Jack had been in bed with the flu for three days, and he didn't seem to be improving. "If he ain't no better tomorrow, we'll call Pete." Liz nodded and seemed to accept this. Ennis went on into the bedroom.

Jack was lying with pillows piled behind him to elevate his chest, his head turned to one side and slumped down to his shoulder. Ennis could hear his labored breathing from the doorway. He walked quietly across to the bed and sat down on the edge, careful not to disturb him. He reached out and pressed the back of his hand to Jack's forehead. _Christ, he's burnin' up,_ he thought. Jack stirred and opened his eyes. He took a breath to speak, but it turned into a coughing fit, his chest sounding gurgly and congested as he sucked in quick breaths that erupted into alarming hacks and retches. He sat up and leaned over, curling around himself. Ennis grabbed a Kleenex and held it to Jack's mouth. He spat phlegm into the tissue and relaxed a little. "Fuck," he muttered, collapsing back onto the pillows.

"How you feelin', tough guy?" Ennis murmured, rubbing Jack's forearm where it lay across his stomach.

"I'm cold," Jack said. Indeed, he was shaking and his teeth were damn near chattering. Ennis pulled up the quilts and tucked them around him. "Cain't seem t'get warm."

"It's chills. You're runnin' a fever," Ennis said. "You been drinkin' water like I told you?"

Jack nodded, one hand going to his eyes. "I hate this." He was still shivering.

Ennis toed off his boots and stretched out next to Jack on top of the covers. He slid close and put his arm across Jack's chest. "Better?"

Jack smiled a little. "Don't want you gettin' sick too, chief."

"Already too late t'worry about that."

"You don't hafta lay here with me, Ennis. I'm disgustin' and snotty and I prob'ly stink."

"Now that hurts my feelings. You think I only like you when you're all fresh 'n handsome?" Jack coughed again; it trailed off into a tired moan. "You're hardly ever sick. Pains me t'see you feelin' so poorly."

"Not's much as it pains me," Jack said, his last word vanishing into another coughing fit. This one went on and on. Jack struggled to a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side and bending over. Ennis sat up too, frowning and rubbing his back. Jack hacked mightily and spat into another Kleenex, then shivered all over and groaned. He turned around and lay back down, burrowing into Ennis's arms like a child seeking comfort. "Motherfuck," he grumbled.

"Maybe Lizzie's right. Peter oughta take a look at you. That cough worries me, rodeo."

Jack sighed. "Let's see how I feel in the morning." Ennis kissed his clammy forehead, rocking him slightly like he'd once done to his girls. He felt Jack smile, his lips against Ennis's throat. "Mmm. Maybe I oughta get sick more often if it means I get all this cuddlin'."

Ennis grunted. "I ain't cuddlin'. You're delirious. Must be the fever."

* * *

Liz put on her coat and boots and trudged the fifty yards home to the bungalow, huddling into her high fur collar. She blew into the blessedly warm entryway and began stripping off her outerwear barely a whole minute after she'd donned it. "We oughta build a tunnel or something," she said. "Spare us having to bundle up whenever we walk back and forth."

"You just want a secret passageway, like in 'Clue,'" Junior said from the living room. Liz entered in her stockinged feet to find her housemate reading on the couch.

"Ah, yes. Miss Baskerville, in the bungalow, with the adding machine."

Junior frowned. "Could you kill somebody with an adding machine?"

"Depends on how mad I am." She sat down in her favorite chair.

"How's Jack?"

"Still pretty sick. He sounds awful. I really want to call Peter, but Ennis wants to wait until morning."

Junior sighed. "That's Daddy for you. If you ain't got bones stickin' out, you're okay and best left to heal on your own."

"I hope he gets better soon. We've got a ton of stuff to do before Christmas." She eyed Junior, who was keeping her eyes on her book. "You decided yet?"

She glanced up at Liz, considered, and then put her book aside. "I really want to stay here, Lizzie. I mean, I want to see Mamma, but I don't want to go out there. Since they moved up to Gillette, it wouldn't even be my hometown anymore. I wouldn't know what to do there, and I wouldn't see any of my old friends. The thought of being in a strange house in a strange town with Bill and Francie, now that I'm used to being here…" She shuddered. "I think I'd rather spend Christmas in Childress with L.D. Newsome."

"The holidays are going to be awful for him, that's for sure. Daughter and grandson gone. I almost feel sorry for the guy."

"I don't. Not after what he did. He'd still have Lureen around if he wasn't such a bastard."

Liz snorted. "Listen to us. Talking about the man as if we'd actually ever met him."

"I'm just so excited about having Christmas here," Junior said. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," Liz said, smiling.

"Won't you miss seeing your family?"

Liz shrugged. "I just saw my mother at Thanksgiving, and she's going down to Florida to spend the holidays with her sister, who I can't stand. My dad and I don't really talk." She looked around. "You and your dad and Jack are more family to me now than my own have been in years." She smiled, tucking her legs up underneath her. "Besides, isn't this the kind of holiday people fantasize about? A white Vermont Christmas in a quaint small town, tucked away in a snug ranch house with a roaring fire and a huge Christmas tree? I doubt Bing Crosby himself could do better."

"And you have a sweetie to snuggle up with."

Liz smiled. "I do, indeed."

"Have you gotten Peter a Christmas present yet?"

"No. I have no idea what to get him. Men are so impossible to shop for."

"I know. I have no clue what to get Dad or Jack, either."

Liz thought for a moment. "They missed their annual trip back to Brokeback this year, didn't they?"

Junior nodded. "Yeah. With all last summer's craziness, the time got away from them." She sighed. "It's too bad. I know it's a special place for them, and even if I didn't know, I'd be able to tell just by how they are when they come back. It's like…I don't know how to explain it. Like going back there recharges their souls."

Liz thought for a moment. "What if we sent them there? As a Christmas present?"

Junior frowned. "You mean buy them plane tickets?"

"Sure."

"I don't know. They're already planning for next year's trip. It'd be kinda redundant, don't you think?"

"Hmm. Maybe you're right."

"I wish they could have something of that here, all the time."

Liz sat up straighter, another idea popping into her head. "Maybe they can."

* * *

Ennis woke early, the windows full of that cold, gray half-light that comes before sunrise. Jack's breathing, although raspy and labored, sounded better than it had the night before. He hoped it wasn't just his wishful thinking. He leaned over and carefully touched Jack's forehead. It was cool and damp; felt like his fever had lifted overnight.

He rolled onto his back and shut his eyes, trying to relax and get a few more hours' sleep. His mind raced ahead of him to the upcoming holidays. Things were rather more up in the air than he would have liked. Junior still hadn't decided whether she was staying here or going back to Wyoming to be with her mother. He wanted her to stay, of course, but didn't like to impose on her decision. Lizzie didn't seem to have much interest in traveling to her own family, so she'd probably be staying home, too.

Francie was the real question. She and Junior had come out for the holiday every year since he'd lived here. Not always on Christmas itself, sometimes in the week afterwards, but he'd always seen her. He didn't know what she'd be doing this year. He hadn't talked to her properly in months, not since Junior'd moved. He still called Alma's house once a week, just like always, but like as not Francie wasn't at home or couldn't come to the phone and he'd end up talking to Alma. To his surprise, Alma seemed more inclined to pass conversation with him than she had in years. She'd ask after Junior, wanting to know how her school was going and if she'd met any nice boys. She'd sometimes ask him about the ranch, and how business was going. She asked about the church he went to, and the friends he had. He'd made polite small talk in return, and had heard about Bill's new business in Gillette and Alma's two boys with him, and about how she was volunteering at the humane society.

As for their younger daughter, they had only talked about her new religious fervor once.

The call had started normally. Ennis asked for Francie, and Alma told him she wasn't home. Her voice sounded tired and thin, and it just barely covered the lie. All at once, Ennis didn't feel like pretending he didn't see right through it. "That what she told you to say?" he said, quietly.

"What d'you mean?" Alma said, her tone measured.

"I bet she's there, all right. I bet she just don't wanna talk t'me."

A long pause. "I cain't force her, Ennis."

"Guess not." He cleared his throat. "What d'you think of…all this?" he asked, vaguely.

He heard Alma sigh. "I don't know what t'think," she said, her voice lowered as if she were afraid of being overheard. "Some of the things she says sound like nothin' more than crazy talk. I don't like t'speak ill of church-goin' folk, but what they preach scares me sometimes. I had some hope that she might leave it behind her once we moved up here, away from them folks she'd fell in with, but turns out there's holy rollers up here just the same as in Riverton. She didn't have no trouble findin' new folks t'church with."

"How c'n you let her keep goin' t'them meetin's?"

"What'm I s'posed a do? Lock her in her room?"

"Maybe so. Maybe she'd come to her senses."

"She's almost grown up, Ennis. I don't like it, but I cain't tell her how t'love God. Ain't right."

"Don't think it's God she's lovin'."

"I jus' keep wonderin' if there was somethin' she was missin', that she had t'go out and find it with those...people."

"I wanna talk to her, Alma. You drag her to this phone if you have to."

"I ain't draggin' her nowhere, Ennis." She sighed. "Besides, you wouldn't like t'hear what she'd say if I did. Like as not she'd just go on about sodomites and hellfire. If she got nothin' but condemnation for _me_ jus' cause I'm divorced, you cain't imagine what she thinks 'o you for bein'…the way you are."

"Oh, I c'n imagine. But I cain't just give up on her. That's my child. I ain't never gonna give up tryin'."

"Course not." She hesitated. "I'll be sure'n tell her how much you're wantin' t'talk to her. Maybe next time you call she'll be willin'."

_Sure,_ he thought. _Pigs might fly._ "Thanks, Alma."

"Goodbye, Ennis."

To his complete lack of surprise, the next time he'd called, it had been the same old story. And the next time, and the time after that. He wanted to see Francine and talk to her, but at the same time, part of him thought it'd just be easier to let it go. If she hated him that much, and thought that badly of him, was it even worth it?

But it was that kind of thinking that had kept him from Jack for twelve years. Taking the easy route and not fighting for what he wanted. He'd been cowardly about Jack. He wouldn't be cowardly about his daughter. He saw how Jack still suffered from losing Bobby. The holidays would be yet another blow, another painful reminder of his son's death. Ennis's girl was alive and well, and he wasn't going to let them be estranged if he could help it.

He glanced out the window at the full pink dawn breaking. So much for getting any more sleep.

Jack stirred next to him. He coughed, then raised a hand to rub at his eyes. "Ugh," he grunted, sounding gravelly and hoarse. He reached for a tissue and started blowing his nose. "I'm all crusty," he muttered. "I fuckin' hate that." He turned his head towards Ennis. "Did I wake you?"

"Naw. I been awake for a little while." He touched Jack's forehead again. "I think your fever's broke."

"I feel better."

"Good."

Jack frowned. "Hey, is it Sunday?"

"Yeah. Why, you feelin' up to going t'church?"

"Ain't Lizzie's first column comin' out today?"

"Shit, you're right. Paper'll be here pretty soon, I guess." He snorted. "It ain't like we haven't already read it, y'know."

"I know, but it'll be somethin' t'see it in print. Our names." Jack shook his head. "I still cain't believe you let that go in with our real names."

"I'd feel stupid readin' about her life with a coupla dudes called Bill 'n Chuck or somethin'. Anyways, I'm sick of ridin' in the back of the bus, Jack. After the business with Forrester I swore I was done with it, and I mean what I say. And it ain't like she's printin' our last names and our address with directions to the ranch. She ain't even sayin' what town we live in. And the fuckin' column ain't about us, like that book was gonna be. It's about her life bein' a sophisticated city gal amongst all us hicks."

Jack chuckled. "We oughta get a picture of us sittin' on the front porch in overalls, chewin' on a piece 'o straw and whittlin'."

"Coupla teeth missin'."

"Sure, and one of us can play the banjo."

They laughed quietly, which turned into another coughing fit. "Christ," Jack said. "It's bad, but ain't as bad as yesterday. I'm on the mend for sure."

"Good, 'cause I'm sick of playin' nursemaid to your sorry self."

"You're just pissed off 'cause you ain't been gettin' any while I've been laid up."

"Neither have you."

"But I been too sick to care." Jack sat up and stretched. "Damn, with a hot shower I might just feel human again."

* * *

"Junior still asleep?" Ennis asked Lizzie. She usually ate breakfast in the bungalow before coming to the main house, but on Sundays she was in the habit of eating with Jack and Ennis, ostensibly so they could all share the Sunday paper. It was a thin pretense. She enjoyed this time with them, no ranch business, no workaday talk, just their once-a-week Sunday morning date.

She nodded, bleary-eyed and clutching her coffee. "She was up till all hours studying. Finals next week, you know."

"Sure." Ennis hesitated. "How's her classes goin'? I ask her, but she just says 'fine,' like she's gonna tell her daddy a damned thing."

"They're going well, I think. She's asked for my help on a few papers. She's having some trouble with the math. I'm afraid I'm not much help with that."

"Marianne could help her."

Liz frowned. "Marianne's good at math?"

Jack, red-nosed and coughing but looked vastly improved, brought the coffee pot over to the table and sat down. "She has a degree in physics from Syracuse," he said. "She's real smart, our Marianne."

Liz blinked, wondering for a crazy second if they were talking about the same Marianne, who'd never mentioned such a history in all their many conversations. "Then…why…I don't mean to sound rude, but…"

"What's she doin' mindin' house for a coupla ranchers out here in the sticks? Yeah, I've wondered about that, too." Liz waited for Jack to continue, but he didn't.

"Well?"

"I don't know. No one seems to. She don't really talk about it none. I don't like t'bring it up, I get the feelin' that she's kinda sensitive about it. I think she's got herself some stories, and probably they ain't happy ones."

Liz nodded, pondering this new fact in the ever-unfolding mystery that was the enigmatic Marianne. "You guys going to church?"

"Not today," Ennis said. "I don't like goin' stag, and he still ain't well. Besides, I believe we got some important readin' comin' our way this mornin', don't we?" he said, dropping a wink at her.

"Oh, shit!" she exclaimed, full wakefulness descending in a rush. "I can't believe I forgot!" She jumped up and ran to the front porch, where the local Sunday paper and the Sunday Post were both lying rolled-up and half-frozen. She came back inside, unrolling the Post and shaking the ice crystals from between its pages. She found the Features section, where her Sunday column would be appearing for the foreseeable future.

"Let's see," Jack said, grabbing the section from her and spreading it out on the kitchen table. He flipped pages, Liz and Ennis leaning over his shoulders, until he whooped and pointed to the small photo of Liz that accompanied the column. "Lookit that!" he exclaimed. "Big as life, picture and everythin'!"

Jack read the column out loud again, although they all damn near had it memorized from all the drafts she'd gone through. "That's somethin'," Ennis said, calm and laconic as always.

"It's weird t'see our names right there, in newsprint, like we're real folks and all."

Liz chuckled. "I didn't realize you didn't consider yourself real, Jack," she said.

"You know what I mean. Real _newsworthy_ folks."

Liz sat down again, the rush of publication making her jumpy. "It's been awhile since I saw my name in a byline," she said. "Forgot how nice it feels. Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousand of people will read that." She sighed. "And about half of them are gonna write me letters asking if these ranchers I live with are queer, or what."

"And how you gonna answer?" Ennis asked.

"We've been over this, Ennis. We agreed I should be truthful."

"Good."

"But this column isn't about you guys. I'm not going to turn it into 'My Life with Gay Ranchers.' More like…'My Life As a City Gal in the Country, Which Happens To Include Gay Ranchers.'"

Ennis made an unintelligible noise. "Still don't like that word," he muttered.

Liz rolled her eyes. "Well, then it can be 'My Life As a City Gal in the Country, Which Happens To Include One Gay Rancher and One Rancher Who Isn't Gay Except For Just This One Time That He Fell In Love With a Man and Married Him."

Jack snorted. "After all that, you wouldn't even have _room_ for the column."

* * *

Jack was stripping the bed when Ennis came in to the bedroom. "What're you doin'? Marianne does that on Wednesdays."

"Gotta do it now. I been sick in this bed for days. I won't be able t'sleep tonight unless I do a bed exorcism."

"A what, now?"

"A bed exorcism. Y'know. The bed's in my head now as a place where I cough 'n hack and feel awful. I'm feelin' so much better today, but if I try'n sleep here, it'll just feel bad t'me and I won't sleep good. Don't y'know that feelin'?"

Ennis nodded. "I think I do, yeah."

"Happens t'me every time I get sick. I was tellin' Lizzie 'bout it, and she said I gotta do a bed exorcism. I figured it cain't hurt."

"What we gotta do? Do we need a preacher? Some holy water?"

"Nah. All we gotta do is strip the sheets, and get rid 'o all this sickroom shit," he said, motioning to the nighttable drift of Kleenexes, juice glasses, medicine bottles and Vapo-Rub canisters. "Then we gotta open the windows and get some fresh air in. She gave me this lavendar sprinkly crap and said I gotta put it on the mattress. Then clean sheets. She says it works for her every time."

Ennis shrugged. "Like you said. Cain't hurt." He helped Jack strip the sheets, then cleaned up the nighttable while Jack sprinkled Liz's lavender stuff on the mattress and the bare pillows. It smelled nice, he had to admit. Soothing, and a little fresh like the outdoors. They stood on opposite sides of the bed, tossing the clean sheets across to each other, tucking and pulling.

Jack was grinning. "Remember the last time we made this bed together?"

Ennis glanced up at him. "Yup. Night we got married. Three o'clock in the mornin' and buck naked."

"Sure made the job more interestin'," Jack said. "Maybe we oughta do more housework in the altogether."

"Well, it'd give Marianne a fright." They tucked the quilt over the pillows. "There, that's done."

Jack nodded. "Feels brand new." He went to the window and cracked it open. "Little fresh air, and I c'd almost forget all the goddamned coughing." As if on cue, another coughing fit seized him. It passed quickly enough, leaving Jack clearing his throat.

Ennis came around the bed and joined him. "Y'know that the sight of a neat-made bed jus' makes me wanna mess it up," he murmured in Jack's ear.

Jack turned, smirking. "You anglin' for a little afternoon makeout?"

"It's like y'said this mornin'. I ain't gotten any while you been sick."

"So, what? Outta patience? Cain't even wait till bedtime like a good boy?"

Ennis seized Jack's waist and yanked him close, his hands sliding down to grab his ass in two handfuls. "I ain't no good boy. You done seen to that, ain't you?"

"I sure hope so," Jack said, low.

Ennis angled his head in and kissed Jack hard, glad that his man was well enough to be interested. They could joke about it, but the truth was that their sex life was so regular that even two or three days off always felt like a punishment. Whenever Jack was away on business for a few days, by the time he returned Ennis was always ready to give him a vigorous welcome-home before he'd so much had a chance to unpack. The infrequent occasions when he was away for a week were pure torture, and not just for Ennis. He knew that the frustration was not all on his side by the way Jack responded to him when he returned.

The same way he was responding to him now, his hands all over Ennis's chest and face, now pulling at his clothes, now pushing him back to the bed, now on top of him on the neatly-made bedding, and now the only thing Ennis was aware of.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack drove slowly through campus, peering out at the names on the buildings and doing his best not to crash the truck while he tried to remember where Junior's dorm was. Entworth Hall, that was the name of the place. Even though she stayed at home most of the time, Ennis had insisted on getting her a dorm room. His reasoning had been that it was a half-hour drive, Junior was a college student and this was Vermont...he didn't want her making that drive in a blinding snowstorm, or at midnight after long hours of studying at the library with her friends. This decision had reflected considerable foresight on Ennis's part, as it turned out, and even Junior now admitted that she'd been grateful to have the room many times. She stayed overnight on campus at least once a week, and on two occasions would have been stranded there by the weather had she not had someplace to stay.

Junior had been on campus continuously for the past three days, cramming for her final exams, and expected to be there until she'd completed her last test. Earlier that evening, she'd called home in a panic, missing an important notebook that she needed for her studying, which was what brought Jack to campus at almost eleven o'clock at night.

"A-ha!" he exclaimed, seeing the low metal sign reading "ENTWORTH HALL" emerge from the darkness. He parked in the lot next to the building, picked up Junior's notebook and went around to the front entrance.

There was a severe-looking fortyish woman sitting behind a desk in the entryway. She was reading a book but sat up ramrod-straight when he came in. "Can I help you?" she asked, lacing the four words with the clear implication that, as far as she was concerned, he was beyond help.

"Uh...I'm here t'see Ju...uh, Alma Del Mar. She's expectin' me."

"Sir, it's after ten, and only family members are allowed inside the dorm after ten."

"Well, I brought her this notebook...she called and asked..."

"Miss Del Mar is aware of the rules."

"But she said it was urgent! She needs it for her studyin' and forgot it at home!"

"She'll have to come down and get it from you, then." The woman pressed a button, then spoke over the intercom. "Junior Del Mar, you have a…visitor…at the front desk." She released the button and smiled insincerely. "I'm sure she'll be right down."

Jack waited, feeling conspicuous and disreputable. The Golem was eyeing him as if she were sure he was trying to pull something, she just couldn't figure out what or how. After a few moments, Junior emerged from a nearby stairwell, grinning when she saw him. "Oh, thank you so much for bringing this," she said, hugging him and then taking the notebook. "I was really in a spot without it. I can't believe I forgot it."

"It's no trouble, darlin'," he said.

She grabbed his hand. "Come upstairs, I want you to meet some of my friends."

The Golem stood up, making a harrumphing noise. "Now, Junior, you know the rules. Only students and family after ten."

Junior stopped in front of the desk. "Mr. Twist _is_ family, Gloria."

"Oh, really?" Gloria was clearly skeptical. _God knows what she must be thinkin',_ Jack thought.

"Yes," Junior said, a defiant expression on her face. "He's my stepfather."

Jack looked down at her, amazed. She'd never called him that, at least not in his hearing, and it filled his belly with happy warmth.

Gloria wasn't buying. "Is that so? Must have been a hell of a trip for him, then, seeing as I know for a fact your mother lives in Wyoming!" she said, a look of thinly veiled triumph on her face at having caught Junior out in such a baldfaced lie.

Junior smirked, enjoying the moment. "I never said he was my _mother's_ husband."

"But...you said..."

"I said he was my stepfather, and he is. He's my _father's_ husband." Junior put one hand on her hip. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Gloria's mouth was hanging open. "Um...no, I guess not."

"Good. Come on, Jack," Junior said, pulling him towards the stairs.

He touched the brim of his hat. "Thank you, ma'am," he said to Gloria as he was dragged past.

They climbed two flights of stairs and came out on Junior's floor. The building was square; the rooms were arranged around the outside, all the doors opening onto a central lounge area. About twenty students were sitting around tables or on the floor, clustered in small groups, studying and talking. Everybody looked up as they approached. "Guys," Junior said. "This is my stepdad."

The reaction was instantaneous and surprising. Everyone got a kind of exaggerated expression of enthusiasm on their face. Jack knew that Ennis had met a few of Junior's friends; he'd been up to campus a few times on his own, although this was Jack's first visit. A few people waved, several said "hello." No one seemed surprised to hear that Junior's father had a spouse of the male persuasion. She led him to a table with a vacant chair where she had apparently been sitting until being summoned to the lobby by the Voice of the Golem. "Jack, this is my friend Annemarie," she said.

"Oh, I've heard a lot about you," Jack said, shaking the girl's hand. She was plain but pleasant, with blonde hair and an astonishing quantity of freckles.

"Likewise," she said, a strong New England accent tinting her words.

"And this is Dean," Junior went on. Dean was tall and slender with severe-looking dark-rimmed glasses and a black turtleneck. He looked like he ought to be writing poetry and knocking back espresso.

"Pleasure," Jack said, shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Dean said, looking at Jack with frank fascination. Jack was picking up a bit of a vibe. He was hardly an expert, but something was telling him that Dean might be a friend of Dorothy, as folks used to say. The fact that he was staring up at Jack with a dazzled expression on his face was a bit of a tip-off, as well.

Junior was moving on to the last person at the table. "This is Allan," she said, just enough of a flutter curling her voice to let Jack know that she fancied Allan a bit. He looked like a farm boy, strong and rough-hewn with red hair and brown eyes.

He actually stood up to shake Jack's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, sir," he said. "We've heard lots about you from Alma."

Jack glanced at Junior just in time to catch the little smile and blush that came to her face when Allan called her by her given name. "Well, it's nice to meet all of you," Jack said, shaking the boy's hand. "You all ought t'come out to the ranch and visit sometime," he said.

Dean's face lit up like the Fourth of July at this suggestion. "Oh, I'm dying to see the place!" he said.

"Maybe after the holidays," Junior said.

Jack nodded goodbye to her friends and drew her away a bit. "I don't want t'keep you from your work, honey. I'm jus' gonna head back home."

She frowned. "I hate to make you come out here at this hour and send you right back!" she exclaimed, distressed. "Maybe we could go out and get a coffee or something."

"It's late, ain't no place open. I oughta get home. I'm expectin' your dad and Lizzie home from Plattsburg tonight." He looked past her. "Your friends seem like real nice kids."

She smiled. "Yeah, they are."

"You kinda like that Allan fella, don't you?" She fidgeted and looked down. "Yeah, I can tell you do."

She shook her head. "He's just a friend."

"Mm-hmm. That's how it starts. S'what I thought about your dad at first, too."

"Shut up," she said, grinning and punching at his arm.

"And your friend Dean, is he...uh..."

"He's gay, yeah."

"Thought so."

"Don't pay it no mind if he seems a little starstruck. He's heard me talk about you and Daddy. He's got a bit of hero-worship going on that you're living together openly. I think the poor guy was a bit starved for role models."

"Huh." Jack shook his head. "Ain't that somethin'."

"What?"

"We'd've just been happy not t'be stoned in the streets, and here's this kid thinkin' we're heroes." He shrugged. "Life's just funny, is all."

Junior smiled up at him. "Well...thanks for bringing my notebook."

"Weren't no trouble, darlin'."

She hugged him. "Kiss Daddy and Liz for me."

"When you comin' home?"

"Not till Saturday, when exams are over. I'd come home sooner if I could. Gotta say, I'm kinda homesick." Jack hugged her tighter, feeling a little choked-up that Ennis's daughter could be feeling homesick for their ranch, and their little family. It made him feel that she could almost be his daughter, too.

He stepped away. "You be good now. Study hard."

"I will. Drive safe!"

Jack waved and headed down the stairs, nodding to Gloria as he left the building. Junior was a good girl.

_I guess one out of two ain't so bad,_ he thought, before he could stop the unchariable thought in its tracks.

* * *

Junior rejoined her study table, sighing in relief as she opened her reacquired statistics notebook. Nobody said anything for a few moments.

"So that was your dad's, uh...his...that was Jack, huh?" Allan stammered.

"Of course it was," Annemarie said flatly. "You were sitting right there when she introduced him to us, dummy." She smiled at Junior. "You never said he was so handsome."

"You think he is?"

"I surely do. Wouldn't you say, Dean?"

Dean was staring off into the distance. "I suppose. Her dad's better."

"Dean!" Junior exclaimed, shuddering.

"What? She asked!"

"Don't talk about my dad that way! Jack neither, now that I think of it."

"Your dad's got a real rugged, no-bullshit, High Noon thing going on," Dean said. "It's sexy."

"Don't make me leave this table. I will, you know," Junior said, mock-severely.

"It's just so counterculture," Dean said, leaning forward and speaking in hushed tones. "I can't get over it. I mean, look at them! They look like they walked right out of a casting call for the Marlboro Man. They're _cowboys,_ and you can't find a more old-fashioned masculine archetype than that."

"So?" Junior said, keeping her eyes on her work.

"What do you mean, so? Don't you see? It's so _subversive._ To most of the country, a homosexual is a prancing sissy boy with a pronounced lisp and good taste in window treatments. But then here come your dad and stepdad, a couple of tough-talking cattle ranchers who ride horses and own a lot of guns. They probably vote Republican, for God's sake! They're paragons of all things manly and conservative while all the time they're _gay!_"

Junior sighed. "I know that, Dean. Do we have to discuss it?"

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes! Not because they're gay, but because it's my _dad!_"

"Leave it alone," Allan said. "Would _you_ want to talk about _your_ parents' sex life?"

That shut Dean up for a few precious moments. Of course, it couldn't last. "So..." he began, a naughty little gleam in his eyes. "Did you ever...you know. Walk in?"

Junior's head snapped up. "What kind of question is that?"

"Come on, it's happened to everybody. I walked in on my parents when I was eight. I thought they were wrestling." He frowned. "Come to think of it, they probably were."

"Well, I never walked in on nothing, thank God." They all looked at her. Junior sighed. "Okay, once I might've..._heard_ something."

"What?" Dean said, pouncing like a cat.

"I don't want to talk about this."

"C'mon, what'd you hear?" Allan said, smirking and getting into the let's-all-overshare spirit of the conversation.

Junior fixed them all with her sternest gaze. "It doesn't matter. It's none of my business, and it sure as hell's none of yours. I love my dad, he has a private life, and if I never know anything about it I will die a happy girl."

* * *

The house was dark when Ennis slipped in the front door. It was almost two; surely Jack would be asleep by now. He hadn't meant to be this late getting home, but Dave had asked a few of his friends over to meet Ennis and Liz, and they'd ended up sitting around the table, drinking beer while they laughed and traded stories. The time had gotten away from them. Liz had finally noticed that it was almost midnight, and she and Ennis had hurried to leave. Dave wanted them to stay overnight again, but Liz had a deadline to meet and Ennis had a hundred chores in the morning.

He pulled off his boots in the foyer and held them in his hand as he walked to the bedroom. The light was still on. He eased the door open; Jack was asleep on his side, one arm tucked beneath his still-open book.

Ennis tiptoed to the bedside and carefully slid the book out from underneath Jack's cheek. He marked the page and put the book on the nighttable. He undressed as quietly as possible, put out the light and climbed into bed with a sigh. He looked over at the back of Jack's head, half-hoping that he'd wake up and welcome him home, but he wasn't moving.

_I ought to just go to sleep and let him be._ In theory, he agreed with that statement. It made sense. It'd certainly be the considerate thing to do. On the other hand…what if Jack had been hoping to stay awake until he got home, but just hadn't made it? In that case, the considerate thing to do would be to rouse him. The open book and the fact that the light had still been on told Ennis that Jack hadn't meant to fall asleep quite when he had.

_Aw hell, Del Mar. Quit sugar-coatin' things. You jus' wanna have sex._ Well, he couldn't argue with that. Ennis turned on his side, reached out and gently touched Jack's bare shoulder where it protruded from the quilt. He ran his hand around the rough knob of the joint and down onto the firm bicep. He felt a slight tremor run through Jack at the touch.

Jack stirred and turned over, his eyes still closed, reaching out for Ennis in his half-sleep. Ennis leaned over and kissed him, drawing him into his arms. He'd never said so, but he loved Jack sleepy like this. He was so warm and relaxed, and his drowsy eyes held none of the barriers and defenses of his waking expression. He felt pliable and soft.

_Like a woman,_ a voice whispered into his mind. _You like him like this because he feels more like a woman when he's too sleepy to assert himself._

That wasn't it. He _didn't_ want Jack to be a woman. He _liked_ Jack's broad chest, his strong jaw. He liked his cock, and though it had taken him a long time to make his peace with that, it was the truth.

_Then why you like him on his back, all soft 'n cooperative?_

He didn't have the chance to think on this further, because Jack was sliding his hands around the back of his neck and kissing him back. It was silent but for their breathing, and the quiet intensified Ennis's arousal. Sometimes, when one of them would wake in the middle of the night or early in the morning, they'd brush up against each other, come together and make love without saying anything, and then just as silently go back to sleep when it was over. Ennis found those wordless interludes intensely erotic, and he didn't know why. It sometimes felt like they didn't need the English language, because they were inventing one of their own.

He slid down, kissing Jack's chest as he tugged his boxers off, losing them in the sheets. He felt Jack's hands in his hair as he kept going, ducking beneath the covers, his hand on Jack's swelling erection. In the dark, warm cavern of the bedding he could feel the warmth rising from Jack's body, and he fancied he could _hear_ the blood coursing through his man's flesh. Jack felt so _alive_ in his arms and beneath his hands, and when Ennis took Jack in his mouth he could feel the pulse of his heart against his own lips.

Later, curled around him on his side, his arms wrapped all the way around him, he rested his cheek against Jack's neck and took his time as he seldom did. Jack shuddered and writhed in his arms as he moved inside him slowly, steadily, trying to judge how close Jack was, wanting to get there at the same time as so rarely happened.

Jack craned his neck around and Ennis propped up a little, leaning over to seal his mouth over Jack's. He sped things up a little, his hand reaching around Jack's hip to dip between his legs.

They didn't _quite_ make it together, but it was close.

Still silent, they disentangled from each other and lay on their backs side by side, catching their breath. Jack sighed, squeezed Ennis's hand, then rose and headed into the bathroom. Ennis watched him go. _See, that there's a man's ass. Ain't no two ways about it. And that's the way you like it. Right?_

Jack returned and climbed back into bed, smiling at Ennis and holding out one arm to draw him close. Ennis rested his head in the crook of Jack's shoulder, where it seemed to fit best, relaxing as he only could here. For a few moments they just laid there while Ennis ran his hand up and down Jack's chest. "I missed you," he finally murmured, breaking the long silence.

"You were only gone one night," Jack said, a smile curling his voice.

Ennis raised his head and met Jack's eyes. "Times I miss you when you get up to change the channel." Jack's smirk faltered a little; he bent and kissed him, and Ennis tucked his head back down to Jack's shoulder.

They didn't speak for several minutes. They didn't need to, not really, not after all this time. Ennis's left hand was resting on Jack's stomach; Jack was idly running one fingertip over Ennis's wedding ring. "Took a little drive up t'Middlebury tonight," Jack finally said.

Ennis frowned. "What for?"

"Junior forgot one 'o her notebooks. I drove it up to her."

"Well, I hope she thanked you proper."

"Oh, she did." Jack hesitated. "She, uh…she called me her stepfather."

Ennis shut his eyes. _No, you ain't gonna cry, you big sissy. Get ahold 'o yourself._ "Did she, now?" he managed to say.

"Mm-hmm. First t'the lady at the desk, wasn't gonna let me up unless I was family. Junior said I was her daddy's husband and that meant I was family. She introduced me to a few 'o her friends and called me her stepdad." Ennis said nothing. He didn't know what to say. Jack shook his shoulder a little. "What you got t'say 'bout that, cowboy? You're awful quiet down there."

Ennis sighed. "What'm I s'posed t'say about my daughter speakin' the truth? Even if she is a bit free with it."

"She jus' wants her friends t'know us."

"I don't see why the whole college gotta know our business."

"Business? Her daddy lives with a man. It ain't exactly somethin' you can just kinda gloss over or forget t'mention. Kids talk 'bout their families, natural-like. Wouldn't seem right if she didn't say nothin' 'bout hers, too. She kept quiet and folks'd prob'ly think we beat her or fought all the time or one of us was a drunk or somethin'. What's the big mystery?"

Ennis shrugged. "I guess the cat's outta the damned bag, anyway. I s'pose it's jus' my habit t'worry 'bout it."

Jack chuckled. "You 'n your habits."

"Cain't teach an old dog new tricks."

"You ain't old. If you're old, I'm old, and I ain't old."

Ennis smiled, then turned his head to kiss Jack's neck. "Well, you sure felt spry tonight."

He felt Jack's chest rise and fall in a sigh. "Well, anyhows…t'hear her call me that was awful sweet."

"I know."

Jack hesitated, and when he spoke again his voice was hushed and cautious. "Sometimes, jus' in my head…I think she's my girl, too. Yours 'n mine. I know it ain't quite the truth, but fact is, she's…" Ennis waited, knowing that Jack was choking up but not wanting to embarrass him by acknowledging it. "She's all I got in the way 'o kids no more," he finished. "I hope that don't bother you none."

"It don't bother me," Ennis murmured. "And who's t'say, Jack? She lives on our land, in our home, and goes t'school on our dime, supported by our work. I ain't doin' any more than you are t'keep her fed 'n clothed. And if even she's saying you're her stepdad, then why oughn't you think 'o her as yours, or as ours?"

"I guess I jus' never thought we'd be this lucky."

"Me neither, rodeo." Ennis couldn't keep the edge of cynicism from his voice even as he agreed.

"Oh, for Christ's sake. You gonna go off on one 'o your doom-n-gloom speeches 'bout how it cain't last and you're gonna hafta pay for your awful sinnin' ways one day?"

"Well…I was thinkin' 'bout it, but I might jus' be too tired t'manage."

"Good, 'cause I don't wanna hear it."

Ennis propped up on one elbow and looked down at Jack. "I love you," he said. His longtime reluctance to say those words was leaving him; it got easier to say every time.

Jack smiled. "You best quit sayin' that. I'm runnin' outta fingers 'n toes t'count on."

"I ain't gonna quit, so you might's well stop keepin' track." Ennis looked down at his hands, idly twisting in the sheets. "C'n I ask you somethin?"

"Sure."

"It's kinda weird."

"Okay."

"D'you ever…" He sighed, wondering if he was really going to let these words out into the open air where they'd be free and impossible to kill. "D'you ever find yourself wishin' I was a woman?"

The look of stunned bewilderment on Jack's face almost made him laugh, but he locked it behind his jaw. "A _woman?_ Well…no, not really. I mean, you're _Ennis._ If you were a woman, you wouldn't be."

"I know, I know, but…let's say I'd be the same person, jus' a woman."

"That's kinda hard to imagine, if you catch my drift."

"You tellin' me it ain't never crossed your mind?"

"I'm tellin' you, it ain't never crossed my mind." Jack stared up at the ceiling, frowning. "I guess I had my days when I wished that it was women that did it for me. Life sure woulda been easier." Ennis nodded. "Times I wished I never met you. That's a hard truth, but I know you understand that it's a wish borne outta some hard times." Ennis kept nodding. "But I _did_ meet you, and I ain't sorry I did. I've wished _I_ was different, and I've sure as hell wished the world was different. But you?" He shook his head. "The only thing I ever wished for where you was concerned was for you t'want a life with me. I got my wish, so I'm done." He looked up at Ennis. "Why you askin' me this? This ain't about Lureen again, is it? You thinkin' that I…" He stopped, and the quizzical look left his face. Ennis looked away, feeling caught out. Jack sighed. "Christ, Ennis. You didn't ask me that 'cause you're worried I wish you were a woman. You asked because _you_ wish that _I_ was."

"That ain't what I meant."

"I guess I ought not t'be surprised."

"Jack, I _love_ you."

"Yeah, you done said that already. You'd jus' love me easier if I had tits and pussy, is that it?"

"You puttin' words in my mouth."

"After all the years we been together, I'm an expert at hearin' the words you don't got the guts t'say." Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "Here I been thinkin' you made your peace with us, and our life. Now I find out that you're still dreamin' about a nice little wifey you could take anywhere, kiss in public, marry before God and talk free about to anybody."

"It ain't so wrong t'want that, is it?" Ennis snapped. "Is it so bad that I wish it could be like that for us?"

Jack looked up at him again, heartbreak in his eyes. "No. It ain't bad t'wish for that. I wish for it, too. But what I wish is for the _world_ t'be different. I don't wish for _you_ t'be." He held Ennis's gaze for a moment, then turned on his side. "G'night, Ennis."

Ennis rolled over to his back and stared up into the darkened bedroom. The moonlight, brightened and reflected off the snow, cast strangely geometric shadows through the bare branches of the trees outside their window. When he spoke again, he hoped that he was heard by more than just those flickering shadows. "You're right," he said quietly. "I cain't help it. I jus' get so tired. Times I wish I had ordinary folks' troubles. There's times I want that wife, and that life. One nobody'd hate me for. One that no one'd ever call no abomination." He sighed. "But I had the wife once, and the life that's s'posed t'be respectable. It went t'shit, 'cause I was wishin' for you. I got my wish too, baby."

He heard Jack sigh, then roll to his back, turning his head to meet Ennis's eyes. "That so?"

Ennis nodded. "I ain't no perfect mate. You know as much, I reckon. But if there's times I want somethin' I ain't got…well, I always want you more, just as you are."

Jack considered this. "I guess I cain't ask for more than that." His lip curled in a mischievous half-smile. "So. Y'wish I was a woman, do you? I guess I could wear a dress for ya. Talk in a high, girly voice? Maybe put on a little makeup? You'd like that, huh?"

Ennis reached out and jerked him close. "Don't you dare," he growled, pulling Jack on top of him. "I got a real man in my bed here," he said, tilting his head back as Jack attacked his neck. "Got me one tough enough t'match me in a fight," Ennis said, reaching around to grab at Jack's ass. Jack pulled back and met his eyes. "Or maybe even tough enough t'win," Ennis whispered.

Jack smiled, grinding his hips against Ennis's and watching as his eyes rolled back. "You give, then?" he said.

"Uncle, for fuck's sake," Ennis groaned.

"You got that right," Jack chuckled.


	3. Chapter 3

_  
December 10th, 1983_

_**CITY GAL  
Adventures of an Urban Expatriate**  
by Liz Baskerville_

When I tell people (and by "people" I mean "city people") about my new life, I tend to hear the same reactions over and over again. They ask if I miss my favorite deli (yes, I do). They ask how I can stand to be so far away from everything (I'm not that far, really). They marvel that I just abandoned my life and left (to which I must respond with a question: what life?). Of all these reactions, the one that irritates me the most is when people muse about how much simpler things must be where I am.

Simple. I hear that word applied to my friends and neighbors, my town, and my whole life. If you believe popular opinion, I must live in a simple house on a simple farm surrounded by simple people.

The problem with this assessment is that to 99 of the people offering it, simple equals dumb. Unsophisticated. Uncomplicated. I've lived here for five months now, and I can tell you without hesitation that nothing here is simple. It's just complicated in a different way. We might not be troubled by gridlock, but just try navigating most of the roads around here after a six-inch snowfall. The people here might not have to worry about being mugged, but teen drunkenness and drug use is a terrible problem when there isn't much to do around town. A person's odds of being knifed in the street may be smaller, but you would not believe the number of people who are hurt or killed in farm-related accidents. After hearing Peter talk about some of the things he's seen at the hospital, I think I might prefer being knifed in the street.

I don't have to look any further than my own adopted family to see the dangers of rural life. Jack was nearly shot a few years ago in a hunting mishap, and bears a scar on his arm as a souvenir. I personally saw Ennis thrown from his horse last summer. He walked away with a few bruises, but he could very easily have been killed. He flew through the air and landed on his back across the top rail of a fence, then fell to the ground. At the time, I thought he'd surely broken his back or his neck. I might add that this was not the first time he'd been thrown, nor was it the fifth, or even the tenth.

My friend Fred has three circular scars on his thigh. They are the result of a childhood fall into an empty grain silo. Empty, that is, except for the pitchfork concealed in the straw at the bottom, and which went clear through his leg. If the tines had struck his femoral artery, which they came perilously close to doing, he would not have lived. This past summer, the son of one of our neighbors lost three fingers while repairing the fan belts on a piece of machinery. Just a few months ago, a young man we didn't know very well died from acute peritonitis after a horse he was trying to tame kicked him in the stomach.

These injuries and deaths, it must be said, are less numerous than the murders and assaults on the streets of New York. But as a percentage, and measured by their effect on everybody here, there is no comparison. I never gave a second thought to most of those crimes I read about in the paper, or saw on the evening news. But when we heard of that boy's death, even though we didn't know him, we read the newspaper's account aloud, we sent flowers, and we went to his funeral.

* * *

Ennis sat down on the edge of the bed with a weary sigh, turning his head from side to side, his neck cracking and popping.

"Long day, cowboy?" Jack said, turning the page in his book.

"They jus' seem t'get longer 'n longer the older I get."

"Oh, 'afore I forget, did you call…"

"Yeah, he's comin' out tomorrow. When's the…"

"Next week. He ain't gonna be back in time."

"Then you better remember to…"

"I will."

"Okay." Jack looked up, blinking, then chuckled a little.

Ennis looked over his shoulder at him. "What's so funny?"

"Listen to us. Anybody listenin' in might think we were readin' each other's minds like an old married couple."

Ennis snorted. "Well, ain't we?"

"Ain't we what?"

"An old married couple."

Jack smiled. "I guess we are." He marked his place and put his book aside. "Looks like the Doc's makin' house calls tonight." He'd seen Peter's car parked at the bungalow as he was locking up, which told Jack that he was spending the night with Lizzie.

Ennis grunted, swinging his legs into bed and stretching out at Jack's side. "Tell me somethin'," Ennis said, after a few moments' silence.

"What?"

"Does that ever bother you?"

"Does it _bother_ me?"

"Yeah. Y'know. Pete spendin' the night."

"Why would that bother me?"

"Aw hell, forget I brought it up," Ennis grumbled, turning on his side.

"Ennis, cut that shit out. I guess it bothers _you_ or you wouldn'ta said nothin'."

Ennis flopped onto his back. "I jus' keep thinkin' 'o them doin' their thing in Lizzie's room with Junior right across the hall…"

"And that bothers you."

"Well, yeah! A little!"

"Ennis, Lizzie's a grown woman."

"I know."

"And we cain't tell her what t'do in her own place."

"It's _our_ place."

"Which she is takin' a pay cut t'live in, so that makes it hers same as if she was payin' us rent."

Ennis grunted. "I guess."

"And Junior ain't no kid no more. She's nineteen, she knows the birds 'n the bees." Jack hesitated. "Y'know, she's probably already…"

Ennis held up a hand. "You stop right there, bucko. I ain't hearin' that."

Jack chuckled. "You're jus' an old-fashioned boy at heart, ain't you?"

"Guess I am."

"Y'know, if Junior ain't comfortable with Pete spendin' the night, that ain't none of our affair. She 'n Lizzie oughta work that out between themselves."

"I know," Ennis sighed. He turned his head and looked at Jack. "Maybe I'm jus' kinda jealous.'

Jack frowned. "Jealous? Of what?"

"Y'know. Lizzie 'n Peter. They're still in that place when courtin's fun, and excitin', and you jus' cain't wait t'see each other all the time."

"And we ain't there no more?"

"Jack, we weren't _never_ there. I never got t'go on _dates_ with you, y'know? We never got to make out at the drive-in or pick each other up at six with flowers."

"Damn, you _are_ an old-fashioned boy."

"I guess I'm jus' sorry that it weren't never normal like that. I remember how it was when I was courtin' Alma. Tryin' t'make nice with her mamma and daddy while I waited for her t'be ready. Promisin' t'have her home by ten. Sneakin' a kiss on the front porch, hopin' her daddy weren't watchin' out the window."

"Don't see how any 'o that was so great, Ennis. I mean, hell. With her, y'got a lousy stolen kiss on the front porch. With me, y'got them nights in our tent on Brokeback. Y'tellin' me that you're all nostalgic for the stolen kiss?"

Ennis sighed. "Yeah, kinda. I mighta gone home with blue balls but it was jus' the way 'o things. Her daddy mighta played at being harsh on me, but it was okay with him. It was always okay, 'cause we was a boy and a girl and that was how it was s'posed t'be."

"And 'cause we're both boys, nothin' we got ain't never gonna measure up to that kiss on the porch, that what you're sayin'?"

"Aw hell, Jack. That ain't what I meant." He turned on his side to face him. "Them nights in our tent was so much better. But that kiss on the porch had the goddamn Good Housekeeping seal of approval."

Jack slid closer. "Them disapprovin' ain't nothin' new, cowboy," he murmured. "Besides, ain't it more fun bein' bad?"

That got a little smile out of Ennis. "We ain't bein' bad," he whispered. "We're jus' bein' true. Some folks get scared 'o the truth."

Jack slid his arms around Ennis and kissed him. Ennis pulled him over on top of him, returning the kiss with interest. "I'd rather be bad," Jack said.

Ennis chuckled, his hands full of Jack's ass. "You been a bad boy, rodeo?"

"Oh, don't get me started."

"Too late, I think."

* * *

"Brokeback Ranch, this is Liz speaking."

"Hey, Liz."

"Greta! How are things in the big city?"

"Awful. I fucking hate winter in New York."

Liz hesitated. "And, uh…how's…"

"Charlie? He sucks. And not in a good way."

She smiled. "Glad to hear it."

"That secretary who moved in with him?"

"Yeah?"

"Word is that she gave him crabs."

Liz burst out laughing. "I'll send him a new set of bedsheets and a Norelco."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it." A pause. "So, I sent up your first load of reader mail today. You ought to get it in a few days."

"Did you read any of it?"

"Some."

"And?"

"Like we thought. Twenty percent love, five percent hate, and seventy-five percent asking if Jack and Ennis are gay."

Liz sighed. "I guess I'll be addressing that in next week's column. I _was_ going to talk about Christmas in a small town…"

"You've got a few weeks yet to talk about that."

Liz could sense Greta's hesitation. "Are you waffling on this?"

"No! No, I'm not waffling."

"Boy. I'm so reassured by that resounding denial."

"Look, I just don't want your column to become about them."

"It won't. But I have to talk about them, they're huge parts of my life."

"I know you do. And if you want to acknowledge that they're homosexual, and they're okay with that, then I'm okay with that. I just want to be the paper running the column about the city girl living in the country, _not_ the paper running the column about the gay ranchers."

"You do realize that no matter what I write, no matter how minimal their visibility in the column, it _will_ be the column about the gay ranchers, don't you?"

Greta sighed. "Yes, I know. I'd think that'd bother you, though."

"Not really. When I first wanted to write about them, that's what I wanted. To show the world the real lives of a couple of ordinary gay men. I can't turn their lives into an expose anymore, but I can make _mine_ into one, and include them alongside me."

Greta cleared her throat. "So, uh…tell me something. Your cowboys."

"Yes?" Liz could already hear an idea working its way into Greta's pragmatic skull.

"Are we talking sexy Gary Cooper cowboys, or sloppy Dan Blocker cowboys?"

"What possible difference does that make?"

"Just curious."

Liz shook her head, smiling. "What kind of an angle are you working, Greta? Hoping to rope the gay readership into slavish devotion?"

"So they're sexy, then?"

"I didn't say that."

"You strongly implied that the gay readership _might_ be roped into slavish devotion."

"I'm not getting into this with you. I refuse to pimp out my guys for the sake of your circulation numbers."

"Ah-ha! I _knew_ they were sexy! Send me a picture."

"Good-bye, Greta."

"I promise I won't print it!"

"I'll talk to you later," Liz said, chuckling as she hung up the phone.

* * *

Junior was going through the mail when Liz came back to the bungalow at four thirty. Her exams were over, and she was on holiday break until after the new year. "What do you want to do for dinner?" she asked Liz.

Liz frowned. "We're not eating up at the house?"

"Jack didn't tell you?"

"I guess he didn't."

"He's taking Daddy out, or something. He acted like it was a big secret. It isn't some kind of special day, is it?"

Liz thought for a moment. "I don't think so. It isn't anybody's birthday or anniversary."

"Probably just some Jack thing that we wouldn't understand."

"Wouldn't be the first. Let's order pizza and see what trash is on TV tonight."

Junior held up a large manila envelope. "Liz! This is from Signal, it must be the pictures!"

Liz took the flat envelope, marked "Photos, Do Not Bend" and stiffened with cardboard. She exchanged an excited glance with Junior and turned on the light above the kitchen peninsula. "Oh, this means we have an important decision to make."

"It's getting down to the wire. Is this going to be done in time?"

"The photographer said that once we pick the print we want, he will overnight the negative to a photo lab in Burlington that can do the enlargement, and then they can send it to be framed. We've got three weeks, that ought to be plenty of time." She slit the envelope and withdrew a short stack of eight-by-ten photographs. Each had a white border marked with a number and the name of the Signal-based Western photographer Liz had dug up the week before.

She began paging through the photographs, all of them depicting Brokeback Mountain from different angles, distances and altitudes. "Wow," she breathed. The images were breathtaking. Brokeback soared into the blue sky, craggy and snow-capped, trimmed with ruffles of green trees and rushing white water streams. Each new angle revealed another of the mountain's many distinct faces. "It's so beautiful," she said. "God, it's no wonder. I think I could fall in love with a one-eyed dwarf if I was with him _here._"

Junior seemed less impressed. Liz surmised that she was accustomed to such scenery, having been born and raised in Wyoming. "I don't know," she said. "These are so picture-postcard. Too happy-happy. Doesn't seem right for Daddy and Jack." Liz rifled through the photographs. More of the same, more of the same…then they both sucked in a breath at the same moment, and Junior grabbed Liz's arm. "That one," Junior said.

"Oh, hell yes," Liz said. The photograph was from a significant distance; you could see most of the mountain. The sky behind the peaks on the left of the picture was dark and stormy, but the stormclouds twisted away into a tentative blue sky on the right side. The sun was coming out, and the light pierced the cloudbanks in visible beams that illuminated the mountainside so that it glowed against the purple-black background.

"Damn, that's an amazing picture," Junior said. "He must've waited all day to get just that trick of the light."

Liz sighed. "Sure we're not going overboard with the symbolism here?"

"No, I don't think so. I think it's just the right amount of symbolism."

Junior held up the photo. "How big will it be?"

"Well, the finished piece, including frames and mats, will be 32 inches by 40 inches," Liz said, holding up her hands to approximate the size. "So the picture will be a bit smaller than that."

"This isn't going to be cheap, is it?"

Liz sighed. "Professional framing is kind of pricey. But I don't want you to worry about that. Your dad and Jack pay me, and I barely spend any of it. It's just been accumulating in my bank account. I can afford it."

"But it's supposed to be from both of us!"

"It is! You helped me think of the idea, and pick out the photo…and…" Junior looked dubious about the importance of her contribution. "You can go to Burlington and pick the thing up when it's done, okay?"

Junior made a face. "And I'm gonna wrap it, too."

* * *

Ennis stamped the snow off his boots outside the back door, shivering. Jack had knocked off fifteen minutes ago, pleading business in town. He expected that dinner would be cooking by now, and he'd come inside to find Marianne ready to hand him a cup of coffee. Marianne was there, all right, but she wasn't cooking dinner. She was making Christmas candy. She did, however, have a cup of coffee ready for him. "What's goin' on with dinner?" he asked her.

"Jack said you weren't eating in tonight," she said.

Ennis grunted. "First I've heard of it. Maybe we're goin' to Fred 'n Arlene's. Have the girls been up?"

"No. I haven't seen them."

"I guess they ain't comin', then." He hung up his coat and looked over Marianne's shoulder. "Hmm. Is that what I think it is?"

"It's fudge, as you know perfectly well."

Ennis snaked out a hand and snatched a cut square from one of the containers she was filling. He took a bite, then grimaced. "There's nuts in here."

"I'm making half without nuts for you, just like I always do, so calm down. You know Jack likes nuts."

Ennis snorted. "I could say somethin' but I won't."

Marianne laughed. "Any other requests for this year's Christmas baking?"

"I really liked them brownies you made last year with the mint inside."

"Oh, I liked those, too. Okay." She paused to make a note on one of her many lists.

"And peppermint bark. That's my favorite."

"I know, which is why I make it every year. No need to ask for that one."

Ennis watched her for a moment, stirring the sugar and butter with metronomic steadiness while she kept her eye on the candy thermometer, chunks of chocolate waiting to go into the fudge she was making. He went to her side and gave her a rough hug with one arm, stepping away quickly.

Marianne looked up at him, puzzled. "What was that for?"

"Oh, y'know." He met her eyes. "You look after us awful good, Marianne."

"You pay me to look after you."

"You do us a right sight better than what we pay you for."

She glanced at him before turning back to her fudge. "If you're trying to make me emotional, Ennis, it won't work."

He smiled. "I know it won't. Jus' wanted t'make sure y'know that…well, we appreciate it."

"You better. My mother says I should be charging you double, because most housekeepers only have _one_ slobby man to look after and I have _two._"

* * *

Ennis sat in the living room, watching the news, wondering where the hell Jack had gotten off to. Assuming that they were going out, he'd showered and changed and had now been cooling his heels for the better part of an hour.

Just before six, there was a knock at the door. Ennis got up, frowning. He wasn't expecting anybody.

He opened the door to find Jack standing on the porch. He opened his mouth to ask him why the hell he was knocking on the door of his own house, but then he actually _looked_ at him. He'd somehow shaved and showered without Ennis seeing him, and he'd changed into nicer clothes. He was holding a bunch of _flowers._ When Ennis opened the door, Jack took off his hat and held it in front of him, like…Ennis sighed. _Like a man picking up his date._ "Evenin'," he said, grinning like a fool.

Ennis crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, one eyebrow arched. "What the hell you think you're doin'?"

"Ain't you gonna invite me in?"

"No, I ain't, I don't invite crazy people into my house."

"But I'm just…"

"I know what you're doin'. You been thinkin' about all that stuff I said about not ever gettin' t'date you, and how I was jealous 'o Lizzie and Peter, so you got it into your damn fool head t'show up on my doorstep like some lovesick kid on his first real date, bringin' me flowers like I'm some dame who's gonna swoon into your waitin' arms." Jack's face fell a little at being called out on his plan. "Ain't that it?"

Jack sighed. "Yeah. But you gotta go 'n spoil it like that?"

Ennis shook his head, chuckling. "Rodeo, jus' 'cause I get a mite nostalgic for my courtin' days don't mean I want 'em back again, 'specially not if I'm the girl in this scenario."

"Hey! _I'm_ the one folks usually joke about bein' the woman! It's about damned time you took your turn!" he exclaimed, shaking the flowers at him. "I'm tryin' t'make a romantic gesture here, asshole! Ain't you even the slightest bit charmed?"

Ennis sighed. "You are twenty pounds of bullshit in a ten-pound bag, Twist, but yeah, I'm charmed. Hang on a second, lemme get my coat." He started to shut the door. Jack put out a hand.

"You seriously ain't gonna ask me in?"

"Hell, no. My daddy'd hide me if I invited a strange boy inside on the first date." He shut the door.

Marianne, who'd been watching from the kitchen doorway, was struggling to contain her laughter. "Come on, Ennis. Are you going to let him stand out there in the freezing cold?"

"It ain't that cold on the porch. He's got a good coat on. Besides, if he's that cold, he can damn well drop the act and just come in his own damned self."

"I think it's an adorable gesture." She eyed him. "And so do you. You just enjoy making him squirm."

Ennis colored. "I don't know where you get your ideas, woman."

"Keen observation."

Ennis put on his coat and scarf, pausing to surreptitiously check his reflection, which did not escape Marianne's notice. "Not a word," he said, pointing a finger at her. She shrugged, saying nothing, as he went back to the front door.

Jack looked a little colder and a good deal more annoyed when Ennis joined him on the porch. "Here's your flowers, asshole," he said, thrusting the bunch into Ennis's chest.

Ennis tossed them over his shoulder, grabbed Jack by the front of his coat, hauled him close and kissed him hard. Jack barely had time to react before Ennis pulled back. "I don't need no flowers," he growled. He slung his arm around Jack's shoulders and walked him down the stairs towards the garage. "That shit's for girls. Your company'll do me jus' fine." He saw that Jack already had his truck running so it'd be warm. Jack started to go around to the driver's side. Ennis stopped, throwing his arms wide. "Hey!"

"What?"

"Ain'tcha even gonna open the door for me?"

Jack rolled his eyes, but dutifully walked back around and opened the truck door. "Want me t'take your hand so's you don't get your skirts all muddy, princess?"

"Some gentleman you are."

Jack clambered into the truck. "So, any chance you're gonna put out on the first date?"

Ennis sniffed, crossing his arms. "Depends."

"On what?"

"How much you spend on dinner."

* * *

They didn't get back until almost midnight, laughing and teasing each other about missing curfew and how much trouble they were going to be in.

Ennis had enjoyed needling Jack about his hokey pseudo-date idea, but secretly, he was touched. Jack had heard him talk about something he missed, and had tried to make it happen. It turned out that in order to preserve the pick-you-up-at-six realism, Jack had gone so far as to shower and shave down at the bungalow so Ennis wouldn't know what was up.

They'd had dinner at the Horseshoe up in Burlington, one of their favorite restaurants, and Jack had called far enough ahead to get them one of the popular stall tables. The restaurant was in an old converted stable, and some of the stalls had been turned into semi-private booths with one table in each of them. The restaurant wasn't fancy, but it had damned good steak and a live band on Friday nights.

It was still hard for Ennis to let go and allow himself to have a good time. He always found himself thinking about things he ought to be doing, or wondering if it was unseemly, or guilting himself about…well, God knows what he still had to feel guilty about. But this night, for some reason, he felt light and carefree. Most folks would never know it to look at him, of course. He wore the same tight-lipped, inscrutable expression he always had, but he knew that Jack could tell the difference. They talked easily about nothing in particular, joked and laughed, did a little reminiscing, and debated what to get various members of their household for Christmas. Ennis had never known anyone he could converse with as easily as Jack, even when he'd first met him. Their increased intimacy of the last seven years had only made it easier to find things to talk about, and by now Ennis could be damn near talkative, if only when they were alone together.

The lights were dimmed as the time grew late and the band started to set up. A companionable silence had fallen between them. Ennis was nursing a beer, but Jack was sticking to Coke since he was driving. Ennis watched Jack out of the corner of his eye, marveling again at the strange path of his life that either of them was even here. He reached over and laid his hand on Jack's leg. Jack didn't look over, just slipped his own hand underneath the table to cover Ennis's. Ennis glanced around. They were boxed in by the stall on three sides, and the open front of the booth looked out towards the rest of the dining room. No one was paying them any attention, and it was now dim enough that it wasn't likely anybody could see them clearly anyway. As if reading his mind, Jack turned toward him, leaned over and kissed him. Ennis gripped his hand under the table and forced himself not to pull away too quickly. _It's okay,_ he told himself. _No one cares. You owe him._

When they separated, their waitress was lurking near the stall opening, smiling. Ennis harrumphed and straightened up. "You fellas celebrating anything?" she asked, coming forward to refill their water glasses.

"Yes," Jack said, to Ennis's surprise. "We're celebratin'…uh…the anniversary of our first date."

"Oh, that's nice," the waitress said, neutrally. "Would you like some cake or anything?"

"Oh, no ma'am," Ennis said, quickly. "We're jus' fine, thanks." She left, and Ennis rounded on Jack. "What the hell?"

"Well, okay, it's only the three _hour_ anniversary of our first date, but she _asked._"

Before they knew it, it was well past time to head home. "You better not be too goddamned drunk to get it up," Jack grumbled as they stumbled up the porch stairs, arms around each other's shoulders.

"I ain't drunk. But hey! I ain't yet said if you spent enough t'get any, rodeo! Don't get ahead 'o yourself, there."

Jack chuckled. "I'd like to kiss you on the porch but I'm afraid your daddy's waitin' with a shotgun in the living room."

"My daddy's dead," Ennis said. "And I'll kiss you if'n I damned well want to." He grabbed Jack and made good on that statement.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was just setting as Ennis drove home from town; he hoped he wasn't late for dinner. He'd left the ranch in the midafternoon on an errand to the farm supply store for some work gloves...and to eyeball the snow-blowers, if he was being honest. They had a plow attachment for his truck, but the snow near the house and on the steps had to be cleared the old-fashioned way. He had walked from model to model, each one with more horsepower and bigger treads than the last one. Might be a good Christmas present for Jack, he thought, although he had to admit that he was the one who really wanted it.

He'd stopped off at the café for a coffee and had run into Grant Linebeck. They'd sat down and shot the shit for longer than he'd intended, until the darkening sky had dragged both of them back out into the cold twilight of a depressing four o'clock December sunset.

Ennis parked the truck and trudged up the shoveled path to the patio. He knocked the snow off his boots as he came into the entryway, then bent to yank them off. Marianne would have his head if he tracked wet bootprints all over the carpet. He walked into the living room, then stopped and looked around.

Every so often Ennis was surprised by the fact that this was his life. Most of the time he just went about his business. Work, friends, family, meals, more work, sex, sleep, and yet more work. The ordinary days that built a lifetime. Now and again, in a quiet moment, he'd take a step back from it and look at himself.

Right now, for example. The house was still and peaceful. There was a fire burning in the hearth. Jack was asleep in his favorite reading chair, slumped down with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, his open book lying on his lap. Ennis smiled a little. _My house,_ he thought. _My walls and furniture, pictures of my family, built and maintained by my own labors and my own business. My daughter at my dinnertable every night, my money in the bank, and my man dozing in a chair._

_Home. My home. My home with him._

He went to Jack's side and leaned over him. "Hey, handsome," he murmured. "No layin' down on the job in this house."

Jack shifted and blinked up at him. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "Shit, I musta fell asleep. What time's it?"

"Almos' five. Anyone here?"

He looked around, still blinking. "Uh...Marianne said she was gonna go down and do some cleanin' at the bungalow." He frowned, his eyes on Ennis's face. "Why you lookin' at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno. You got a funny look."

"That's jus' my face. Careful whatcha say about it there."

Jack shrugged and stood up, stretching. "Let's see what's goin' on in the world," he said, going to the TV and flipping it on. "Prob'ly nothin' good." He sat down on the couch to watch the news while Ennis headed for the kitchen.

The phone rang as he passed. He picked up the receiver. "H'lo?" No answer. Ennis frowned. "Hello?" he said, a little more forcefully. Still no answer. "Anybody there?" he said, giving it one more try. Jack glanced at him, then back at the news. Ennis was just about to hang up when a man's gravelly voice spoke.

"Who's this, then?"

"You're the one callin' me, friend."

"Is this Del Mar?"

Ennis was starting to get irritated. "Yeah, it's Ennis. Who the hell's this?"

The caller cleared his throat. "This is John Twist."

For one disoriented moment all Ennis could think was _but that's Jack's name_, until his brain clicked over and informed him that it was Jack's father on the line. He looked up at Jack, watching the news. "Oh," he said, rather lamely. "Well...this is a surprise," he said.

"I reckon so."

"You, uh...wanna talk t'Jack, then?" Hearing this, Jack looked up at him, frowning. _Who is it?_ he mouthed.

_It's your father,_ Ennis mouthed back, holding up a finger, waiting for Twist's response. "Was hopin' to talk t'you for a bit, actually," Twist said.

"All right, then. Say what you wanna say." Ennis shrugged at Jack, who leaned back on the couch, eyeing him dubiously.

"Jack says you're a good man," Twist said, sounding like it was an effort to get the words out.

Ennis hesitated. "I sure's hell hope he'd say that."

"I, uh...reckon that mayhap I was a bit harsh on you."

"Y'think so?" Ennis said, hoping that he was keeping the sarcasm out of his voice.

Twist's strained tolerance gave way with an almost audible snap. "Don't you judge me, boy. Ain't so easy t'find out your son's a fuckin' queer and he's moving across the country t'live with his queer boyfriend."

Ennis bit his lip and counted to five. "If I were you I'd keep a civil tongue, old man," he spat. "I don't give a shit what you say about me but I ain't hearin' you insult Jack. He's your son, for Christ's sake."

"He ain't the son I tried t'raise."

"Thank God for that," Ennis snapped. "The son you wanted woulda been an ignorant, mean-hearted son of a bitch jus' like you. It's a fuckin' blessing Jack's the man he is in spite 'o what you tried t'make him into."

Silence on the line. Jack was staring at him like he'd just ridden up on a white horse and slain a fire-breathing dragon. Ennis couldn't look away from his eyes. "That so?" Twist finally said.

"That's so."

"Well. I guess I heard enough."

"I got more t'say, if you're interested."

"Naw. I wondered what kinda man you were, and now I know. You might be a fuckin' queer, but you got some balls, ain'tcha?"

Ennis didn't give a rat's ass about John Twist's assessment of his balls. He didn't need or want the man's approval or his respect. "You wanna talk t'Jack, or not?"

"Yeah. Put him on."

Ennis held out the phone, exhaling. Jack jumped up and came to take it from him, pausing to kiss him loudly enough that his father was sure to have heard. Ennis suppressed a grin and headed into the kitchen to give Jack privacy.

Liz was just coming in the back door. She went to the stove and turned the heat on underneath the big pot of soup that Marianne had made earlier. "Marianne's gone home," she said. "Kenny's taking her out for their anniversary."

"Didn't know it was."

"Yep. Five years, she said." Liz sighed. "That'd make her twenty-one when they got married."

"Don't get that nosy nose 'o yours workin' on that, city gal."

"I can't help it! I just get the feeling that there's a story there."

"You could ask her."

"You never have."

"That's 'cause I know how t'mind my business, which is more'n I c'n say for you." He looked past her. "Junior havin' dinner tonight?"

"She's coming. She's on the phone with her mom."

"Must be Family Phone night. Jack's talkin' to his dad."

Liz's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah? And, uh...how's that going?"

Ennis shrugged. "The old bastard wanted t'talk t'me for a bit first, mostly just t'throw some shit at me t'see if I'd throw it back."

"And did you?"

"With interest."

Liz looked thoughtful. "Jack's dad's been calling more than usual, hasn't he?"

"Well, since 'usual' is 'zero,' yeah, he has. He's called three times this fall. First time was jus' after Bobby died. Then round October he called again, now tonight."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Don't care to speculate."

"You think he's...you know. Softening up? Feeling guilty?"

"He's got plenty t'feel guilty about." Ennis sighed. "I don't know, Lizzie, and I don't much care. I'd rather he kept t'himself. He calls and gets Jack all riled up 'n emotional and then I gotta deal with it. He ain't endearin' himself t'me."

"I wonder why his mother isn't the one who's calling."

"Well, she never did before. I get the feelin' he's callin' on the sly and she don't know about it."

"Maybe he wants something."

Ennis was silent for a moment. "Money, you mean."

"You have to have thought of that."

"Yeah, I thought of it. Kinda been waitin' for it. A poor man's got nobody, but a man makin' a good livin's got more kin than he knows what t'do with."

Liz smiled. "Who said that?"

Ennis frowned. "Uh...I did. Wasn't you payin' attention?"

"Oh. I just thought you were quoting somebody."

"Kinda surprised no one's come knockin' yet. Jack ain't got no kin but his folks, but I guess my brother 'n sister'd have their hands out fast enough if they knew."

"Do they know where you are?"

"Probably. Don't rightly know what they know."

"Why aren't you in touch with them?"

Ennis shifted, uncomfortable with the topic. "Cain't say. Jus' kinda los' touch after my weddin'. They wasn't exactly close by. Haven't seen either of 'em since then."

"You could just pick up the phone and call them, you know."

He eyed her. "Why you so anxious that I should?"

Liz shrugged. "I just hate to hear about families not keeping in touch. It's a shame."

"I ain't too eager t'hear what K.E.'d say about my livin' arrangements. I'd just's soon avoid it."

Jack came into the kitchen, looking puzzled. "How's your dad?" Liz asked. Ennis was just watching his face.

Jack shook his head. "I wish I knew what was goin' through that man's mind. He doesn't speak t'me for seven years, now all of a sudden he's callin' up t'make small talk about beef prices and politics."

"He ain't said what he wanted?"

"I asked, and he got all huffy. 'I need a reason t'call my boy?' he says, like he's all offended. I told him if he wanted somethin' he oughta just come out and say it. Then he got _really_ offended and hung up." He sighed. "I cain't figure it."

"Don't worry yourself," Ennis said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Maybe he's jus' got the holiday spirit."

Jack barked rough laughter. "Yeah, he's a right jolly old elf."

* * *

Liz sliced bread and made a salad while the boys set the table. _The boys,_ she thought._ I always think of them as 'the boys.' They're older than I am, yet that's just what they are. The boys._

Ennis was glancing out the back window, watching for Junior, but she still hadn't come up. "Musta got into it with Alma," he muttered, getting out the milk. "Might's well start. She c'n join in when she's done."

They filled their bowls with Marianne's homemade minestrone and took their seats around the table. Jack and Ennis were mumbling to each other, something ranch-related, but Liz wasn't really paying attention. She was thinking about Jack's father.

She had a sneaking suspicion about what was making the elder Twist contact his son at this very late date in their relationship, but she had little to go on but her own hunch. It wasn't money, not directly. He'd been without for a long time, and he was proud and stubborn. What could make him reach out a hand _now?_

She could think of any number of reasons. None of them were good. She hoped she was totally, completely wrong and that Twist was just feeling pangs of remorse over how he'd treated his only son. That'd be nice, if true.

Liz sighed. _While I'm dreaming, I'd like a yacht._

The back door opened and Junior came in. "Hey, darlin'," Ennis said. "Glad you could make it, we was startin' t'wonder." Junior came over and sat at the table, looking a bit shell-shocked. She made no move to pick up her soup bowl or eat anything. Ennis's brow was furrowing. "You okay, Junior? You look like you just got some bad..." He reached out and grasped her arm. "Is Francie okay? There ain't no bad news from home is there?"

Junior looked up at him. "Oh, no, Daddy. Not exactly."

"What's that mean, not exactly?" Jack said.

"Well...y'see..." Junior shook her head. "I still can't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"I was talkin' to Mamma about Christmas. I told her that I've decided I'm staying here, and she wasn't surprised. She said she'd expected that's what I'd want. The thing is, Daddy..." Junior took a breath. "She wants to come _here_."

The room went dead silent. Liz couldn't seem to shut her mouth. Ennis looked like he'd been poleaxed. "She wants _what_?" he said.

"She wants to come here. Asked me if I'd talk to you about it, see if it was all right."

"But...what about Monroe and Francie, and the kids?"

"Monroe's taking the kids to his folks in Cheyenne. Mamma says she doesn't really want to go with him, she doesn't get on with his folks, and she'd rather see me."

"What's Francie gonna do?"

Junior shrugged. "I dunno, I didn't ask. I was kind of surprised."

Ennis was shaking his head. "I jus' cain't believe it. She wants t'come _here._ To the ranch. And have Christmas with you, even though that means I'll be around, and Jack too."

Junior nodded. "That's what she said."

"How come she didn't talk t'me about this first, before layin' it on you?"

"I think she was a little afraid to, Daddy!" Junior said, her brow creasing. "She probably didn't know how you'd react!"

Ennis nodded. "Well…I guess I better call her up after dinner, then."

"Yeah, I'd guess you better." Junior sat where she was for a few more moments, then got up to get some soup. Liz watched as Ennis and Jack exchanged a series of unreadable expressions.

The prospect of Alma spending Christmas at the ranch was a little overwhelming. Liz had been looking forward to a peaceful holiday full of pleasant gatherings, big feasts and family time. Throw Alma into the mix, and she didn't know what she'd end up with. She could hardly imagine the awkwardness that was in her future if this happened.

And this could not have been an easy decision for Alma, either. Surely her holiday wish wasn't to spend it with her ex-husband and his male life partner. She must want to see Junior very badly…or else she desperately didn't want to go with Monroe to Cheyenne.

_Oh God,_ Liz thought. _She'll probably stay at the bungalow._ She sighed. _The weirdest Girls' Slumber Party ever._

_

* * *

_

Ennis sat on the edge of the bed, eyeing the phone and working up his nerve. _It's only Alma,_ he told himself. _You've talked t'her a million times._

He took a deep breath, picked up the receiver and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Alma. It's Ennis."

"I figured you'd be callin'."

"Junior says you got some ideas for Christmas."

"I do, yes."

"Reckon we oughta talk about that."

"Ain't that what we're doin'?"

"Alma, are you sure this is what you want? I jus' cain't believe that you actually…"

"I wanna see my daughter," she said flatly. "Believe me, I don't like it anymore than you do."

"What about Francie? Would she come with you?" Ennis wasn't sure if he hoped the answer was yes or no.

He heard Alma sigh. "I asked her, but she won't come. She'll go with Monroe and the boys."

"Shit, Alma, she don't know them folks. You gonna let her have Christmas with a bunch 'o strangers?"

"It ain't like it'll be over the real Christmas!" she exclaimed.

That gave Ennis pause. "Oh, it ain't?"

"Didn't Junior say? Monroe's goin' to Cheyenne the week before. That's when I'm hopin' t'make this trip. We'll all be here in Gillette for the 24th and the 25th."

"Oh. That's good, then."

"I wouldn't leave Francie and the boys on Christmas Day, Ennis. What're you thinkin'?"

"Well, Junior didn't say that." He hesitated. "You really wanna do this, then?"

"Wouldn't say so otherwise."

"Look, I gotta speak plain. I cain't believe that you're ready t'come out here for God knows how long and stay here, in the house I share with Jack."

"Junior says there's room for me in that house you built for her."

"Sure there is, but that ain't what I mean. This is me and Jack's ranch. It's our _life,_ and if you come out here, you're gonna see it up close."

"Ain't you and him decent? What, d'you walk around in the altogether?"

"No! That ain't what I meant. It's just…" He sighed. "You only met Jack one time, Alma. You ain't even clapped an eye on him since that first time he come t'visit me back in '67. You didn't wanna. It was like you was pretendin' he didn't exist. You come here, and you ain't gonna be able t'pretend."

"I don't mean to pretend nothin'. I can handle it if you can."

"I know how you handle things. You gotta know up front that I ain't gonna let you turn up your nose at my life in my own house. And I ain't gonna change nothin' just 'cause you're here, neither. I ain't the man you knew no more. If I feel like givin' him a kiss I'm gonna do it whether you're standin' there or not."

She was silent for a moment. "You wanna rub my nose in it, Ennis? Is that it? You wanna make sure I remember that the man I thought I knew was a…" She cut herself off. "You mean ta throw your perversions in my face?"

"I ain't throwin' nothin'. You call it a perversion, I cain't help that. But I ain't changin', Alma. I am livin' honest for the first time in my whole life and I am happy. I ain't goin' back just 'cause you're visitin' and it might cross your eyes. You jus' gonna have t'deal with it. If you think you can do that, you're welcome here."

There was a long silence. "I didn't think you'd say yes," she finally said.

"Well, I'm sayin' yes." Another silence. "You still wanna come?" he said, wondering if Alma had only suggested a visit because she never thought he'd agree to it.

"I do," she said. "I, uh…I'm much obliged."

He sighed. "I done you a lot of wrong in my life, Alma. I guess I owe you a week's holiday. In fact, I'll buy your plane tickets, if you want."

"Oh, I cain't let you do that."

"You can and you will."

"Monroe won't like that."

"I don't care. Tell him you're usin' your pin money or somethin'. What's he think of this idea, anyhow?"

"He ain't too thrilled, but I don't get on with his folks and I think he's kinda glad I won't be along."

They were quiet for a few beats. Ennis didn't know what else to say, but it didn't feel like they were quite done yet. "It's gonna be weird, y'know," he said, quietly.

"We're almost forty years old, Ennis," she said. "We oughta be able t'be civil to each other for a few days, for Junior's sake."

"Y'think you can be civil to Jack, too?"

He could almost hear her teeth grinding. "No promises."

"I guess that's fair." He cleared his throat. "Lizzie'll set up the tickets. She'll call you tomorrow to find out when you wanna leave and come back."

"Sure enough."

"I reckon we'll talk again before you leave."

"Right."

"Well…g'night, then."

"Night, Ennis." The line went dead. Ennis stared at the receiver in his hand for a moment, then hung it up.

Jack poked his head around the bedroom doorway. "She's really comin', then?" he said.

"How long you been standin' there?"

"Couldn't help it." Jack came in and sat down next to Ennis. "That sounded…a mite awkward."

"Yeah, that's one word for it." Ennis flopped backwards onto the bed, his hands over his face. "God, what'm I getting' us into?" he groaned.

"It's just Alma."

"Right, _just_ Alma. Just my ex-wife."

"It's for Junior."

"Oh, c'mon. Junior don't think this is a great idea any more'n I do."

"Then why'd you say yes?"

Ennis dropped his hands and met Jack's eyes. "I dunno."

"I do." Jack stretched out next to him, propping his head up on one elbow. "You want her t'see it."

"See what?"

"This. Us. The ranch, the house, the town. Our life. She's always been so quick to talk you down 'cause of it, I think you want her t'see how much better your life is now than when you was married to her."

Ennis blinked up at the ceiling. "Goddamn. That ain't a very Christian thought, is it?"

"Christian or not, it's only natural. She's said some awful things t'you. You want her t'see that you ain't sufferin' on her account. You want her t'see all you can give Junior that she cain't, and that she's happier here than she was in Wyoming."

"Maybe you're right." Ennis shook his head. "Damn, that's kinda mean."

Jack shrugged. "I've had those same thoughts. Maybe if L.D. saw our operation he wouldn't crow quite so loud, shit like that."

"I don't wanna rub her face in it." He reached up and laid a hand on Jack's cheek. "She says this is a perversion. Maybe I jus' want her t'see it ain't."

Jack smiled. "It ain't so easy for some folks t'see that."

"Well…we can give it a try, anyway."


	5. Chapter 5

(from the "Columns" section of the New York Post, December 16th, 1983)  
_  
**CITY GAL  
Adventures of an Urban Expatriate**  
by Liz Baskerville_

I've received many letters in response to my column so far. The distribution is about what I expected. A few of you hate me, a few more of you love me, and a whole horde of you are asking one question: what's the deal with Ennis and Jack? Who are they? What are they? And, of course, the all-consuming must-know question: what are they to each other?

Let me tell you about Ennis and Jack.

They were both born and raised in the West, inheritors of a hardscrabble existence made of poverty, empty expanses of rough plains, and hard work that toughens the skin and weathers the face. Neither of them were educated to near the level that their intelligence warranted, for various reasons that were beyond their control. Their childhoods were full of tragedy, deprivation, disconnection and a hopeless sense of nothingness, which is what they thought they had ahead of them. Small lives of hardship and obligation, without joy or fulfillment.

Neither of them, by their own admission, could have ever conceived of where they would end up.

Now, they are prominent, upstanding citizens. They are successful farmers and breeders who are active in their church and their community. Their operation has brought considerable economic advantage to their adopted hometown, and they can't walk down the street without being hailed by one of their many friends. They employ the local teenagers during summer vacation, they help with the high school's FFA program, and when someone in town needs help or falls on bad luck, they are among the first to extend a helping hand.

Although their days of being ranch hands are long behind them, neither of them are the type to sit in an office and direct the work of others. Every day they get up early and go out into the fields with their employees. They groom their own horses, they tend their own stock, and they do their own repairs. They come back to the house every night dirty and tired, but I see in their eyes the satisfaction of having done an honest day's work on their own land. They are good bosses, tough but fair, and honest businessmen. They are both men that anyone would be proud to call father, brother, son, or friend.

Every night, when the work is done and the morning's too close, they retire to the bedroom that they share. What they have done with their lives, they have done together. They wear matching silver bands on their left ring fingers, crafted for them by a local artist, and no one in town ever talks about Jack, or Ennis, but only of Jack-and-Ennis.

I don't have the column inches to go into what it took for them to get to this point, but suffice it to say that most of it was hell. I think you will get the picture if I tell you that they met in 1963, but did not move here until 1976. What they went through in those thirteen years I would not wish upon my worst enemy. The only reason that they are allowing me to speak so candidly about them now is that it's their wish that others should not have to go through the same thing, and their hope that what I write, and what others see of them through me, might help.

Who are Jack and Ennis? They are cowboys, dyed in the wool, down to the hats and the boots. They are my friends, employers, and in some ways, my saviors. I love them as if they were my own blood. They are simple working men, salt of the earth, who love their family and are living, in their own way, the American Dream.

The only tragedy in their lives now is that to some people, everything good that they are is negated by their love for each other.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**

* * *

**

Liz dreaded going up to the house this Sunday morning. The column she'd written about Jack and Ennis would go out today, and it was the first of her columns that she hadn't shown them first. They'd see it this morning along with the rest of the paper's readers, and she was nervous about their reaction.

She slipped in the back door, hoping to be unobtrusive. Ennis was nowhere in sight. Jack was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee at his side, the paper open in front of him. She could see her own postage-stamp-sized picture and knew that he was reading it. Or had read it. Actually, he was just sitting there like a statue, arms folded on the table top, staring down at the words.

She cautiously approached and stood behind the chair to his right. He didn't look at her. "Do you mean all of this?" he said, quietly.

"What?"

He raised his head and met her eyes. "Is this really what you think of us?"

Liz nodded. "Yes, Jack. That's what I think of you."

He dropped his gaze to the paper again and sniffed. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

"It ain't true, though. These noble, upstanding folks you're talking about…that ain't us."

"Well, that's who you are to me." She sighed. "Has Ennis read it?"

Jack nodded. "Gave him a bit of a turn."

"Good or bad?"

He shrugged. "T'see it spelled out in black and white like that, who we are and such, knowin' all those folks are readin' it…I dunno. Might've been a bit much for him. You know how he is."

Liz sagged. She'd gone too far. "I'm sorry."

He frowned. "You got no call to apologize, swee'pea. It's jus' a bit weird t'read about how someone else sees you."

At that moment, Ennis came in the back door. Liz took a deep breath and faced him. His expression was unreadable, as usual. "Ennis, I'm sorry about the column. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."

He leaned up against the counter. "I ain't no kinda man if I'm embarrassed by the truth," he drawled, the ghost of a smile quirking his lips.

"But if I said too much…"

"You done fine."

"Jack said that you were…"

"Jack talks too fuckin' much." Jack rolled his eyes. "I told you t'write what you wanted, as long as it was honest, didn't I? I'd have a lotta nerve gettin' mad that you done it." He sighed. "You got one thing wrong, though."

"What's that?"

"Not everyone'd be proud to call me father."

* * *

_December 19th, 1983_

_

* * *

_

Junior parked at the end of the gravel offshoot that led from the main drive down to the bungalow. She got as close to the house as possible and got out of the car, craning her neck, peering around for any sign of her father or Jack. She didn't see anybody.

Quickly, she opened the back door and pulled out a cumbersome, paper-wrapped package. She kicked the car door shut and hurried across the porch to the front door, relaxing only when she'd shut it behind her and the secret item was safely inside, unseen. "Liz, I've got it!" she called.

Liz came out of her room. "Oh, I can't wait to see!" she exclaimed, hurrying to take the package from Junior. She laid it out on the dining-room table and tore off the brown paper. They both stood back and stared at their handiwork, silent. Liz sighed. "Wow," she finally murmured.

Junior was speechless. The photographic enlargement was amazing; crystal-clear and vivid as if you could step through the frame and onto Brokeback Mountain. It was matted in two layers of blue and gray that matched the sky and the clouds in the photo, the whole thing covered in non-glare glass and framed in a prairie-style wooden frame that would match the house. "It's so beautiful," Junior said. "It's perfect."

Liz put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulders. "It was a good idea, honey."

"I hope they like it."

"I'm sure they will."

"It's not going to fit under the tree, that's for sure."

"Well, I had an idea about that. What if we wrap it, hang it on the wall above the fireplace where it's supposed to go, and just wait for them to notice it?"

Junior grinned. "That's a great idea!"

"One of us will have to sneak into the house and hang it, though. I think that ought to be your job."

"No way. What if I sneak in while they're doing it or something? I might _hear_ them and become traumatized. You should do it."

"What, like I _won't_ be traumatized?"

"Oh, come on. It'd probably get you all hot and bothered."

Liz gasped. "It would not! That is an appalling accusation."

"Deny it all you want." Junior was grinning.

"That is totally untrue. That is completely ridiculous."

"You told me that you saw them a couple of times and you thought it was _hot!_" Junior exclaimed, pulling a horrified face.

"I should never have told you that, it was completely inappropriate. And I didn't say it was _hot_, I said it was _touching._"

"Whatever."

Liz cleared her throat. "So I'll hang the picture, then?"

"Damn right, you will."

She picked up the framed photo. "I'll stash it under my bed for the time being." She went to her room, still talking. "You excited about seeing your Mom?"

Junior idly tidied the kitchen. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You don't sound very excited," Liz said, returning.

She shrugged. "I'm just a little weirded out that she's actually going to be here. I mean...how is that going to work?" She shook her head. "I just can't imagine her being able to deal with Jack. The things she used to say...honestly, I don't know how long she knew about them, but I've got this feeling that she knew before the divorce."

"Maybe she's mellowing. She did send him that scarf."

Junior sighed. "Yeah, the scarf. That was really more about her having to get rid of a hundred scarves than any friendly feelings she had towards Jack, I think."

Liz frowned. "Well, don't tell Jack that. He's hanging onto that scarf like a talisman and telling himself that it'll be fine."

"I know." Junior shook her head. Jack was maintaining a ruthlessly optimistic attitude about her mother's visit, more so than she or her father were...but then, Jack was usually the one to be looking on the bright side. She just dreaded seeing his face fall when her mother treated him however she was going to treat him. However civil Alma forced herself to be, it would still be a step down from what Jack was hoping for.

Junior didn't relish the balancing act ahead of her. She was glad to be seeing her mother, but she was not glad that she'd have to witness firsthand her mother's intolerance about her father and Jack. She didn't think she'd be able to sit by and say nothing if her mother was rude to Jack, or said mean things about him out of his hearing. Nor was she looking forward to watching her father stuck in the middle. She felt sorry for him. This had to be his worst nightmare come to life. She sighed. "This is all my fault," she said. "The next three days are just going to be hell for all of us and it's all because of me."

"Don't be silly," Liz said. "Ennis could have said no."

"He wouldn't have had to if I'd done it first. I should have just told Mamma that she shouldn't come. Or I should have flown out there and visited her while Monroe's in Cheyenne!" she exclaimed, the idea just now occurring to her. "Dammit, why didn't I think of that before? That would have solved everything!"

"Junior," Liz said, sounding serious and thoughtful. "I really think that your mother _wanted_ to come out here. I think she wants to see where you're living, and how you're doing." She hesitated. "And I think part of her wants to see Ennis. She's built up his life in her mind as some twisted carnival of sin, or something, and I think she wants to know what the reality is like. And maybe that's a good thing. If she sees how normal it all is, it might be hard for her to hang on to those ideas."

"I guess we can hope." She glanced at her watch. "I bet Daddy's all in a tizzy by now."

"When's her flight?"

"Tomorrow, eleven thirty."

"Who's going to pick her up?"

Junior snorted. "Oh, that question is a matter of some debate."

"Is Jack going along?"

"He wants to, but Daddy's not having it."

"Are you going?"

"Yeah."

Liz was out of Alma-related questions, apparently. "Are we going up for dinner?"

"I don't want to deal with Daddy tonight. You wanna go out?"

"Sure. Let's go to Burlington and see a movie."

Junior grinned, relieved. "You're on."

* * *

"Ennis?" No answer. "Ennis!"

He jumped. "What?" he snapped.

"Did you hear what I said?"

Ennis blinked, then sagged. "Oh. No, not really."

"Will you relax?"

"How can I relax? She's gonna be here in..." He checked his watch. "Thirteen hours."

"She ain't the Destroyer of Worlds, you know."

"Easy for you to say, you weren't married to her."

"What are you scared of, anyhow?"

"I don't know!" Ennis exclaimed. "I jus' know we're gonna end up havin' all kinds 'o _conversations_ that I don't wanna have."

"God forbid Ennis Del Mar have a conversation."

"Oh, lay the hell offa me. How'd you like it if Lureen were comin' t'visit? No, wait, forget I asked," he said, holding up a hand to forestall whatever smartass comment Jack was opening his mouth to let fly.

Jack stood up, grabbed Ennis's hand and yanked him out of the chair. "C'mon. Let's go to bed."

"I ain't tired. I'm all jittery."

"I can fix that." Ennis was allowing himself to be led into the bedroom, probably intuiting that he might be rewarded if he didn't put up a fuss. Jack shut the door behind them and turned around, going right to work on Ennis's buttons. "No more talk about Alma now, y'hear?"

Ennis smiled, that little lopsided half-smile like a lazy slant of sunlight that did Jack in every time. "Who?" he said, sliding his hand around the back of Jack's neck to pull him closer and kiss him.

Jack stripped Ennis's shirt from his body and let his mouth wander south to his neck. He felt Ennis yanking on his own shirt, and from there it got hard to tell whose hands were whose. There were just four hands grabbing at two sets of clothes and before too long all the clothes were on the floor and the hands were feeling nothing but skin.

* * *

Jack woke up a lot earlier than he normally would have done; the sun wasn't even up. He blinked at the clock…six thirty. He settled back into the pillows and tried to relax into sleep, but nothing doing.

He looked at Ennis, fast asleep on his stomach. Knowing that Ennis would be anxious about Alma's arrival, Jack had done his best to wear him out the night before so he'd sleep. The effort had been enjoyable, to say the least, not to mention effective. Ennis had practically fallen asleep on top of him.

He gently eased himself out of bed, the wood floors cold on his bare feet, and padded into the bathroom, shutting the door so his shower wouldn't wake Ennis. He dressed, damp-haired and careful. His fear of waking Ennis was composed of about fifty percent legitimate concern that he get enough sleep and fifty percent intense desire to minimize the number of waking hours available for Alma-related anxiety.

The house was quiet, but not deserted. He found Marianne in the kitchen, cleaning appliances, all of them neatly lined up on the countertop. "What're you doin' here?" he said, frowning. "It ain't even seven o'clock!" Marianne usually worked from somewhere around ten o'clock in the morning until six or so. It was flexible. He'd never seen her here this early, though.

"There's coffee," she said, in lieu of answering his question.

Jack's eyes widened. "Are you cleaning the _toaster slots?_"

She sighed and stepped back. "Okay, I guess that's a bit fussy, even for me."

"Why are you here so early? Not that I'd say no to one of your breakfasts."

"Well, it's a big day, isn't it? Ennis has been working doubletime to make sure this place looks perfect. Least I can do is show Alma a pristine kitchen."

Jack smiled. "Aww, darlin', that's awful sweet of you. But y'know, I seriously doubt that checkin' for crumbs in the toaster slots is on Alma's agenda for the visit."

Marianne nodded. "You're probably right. I just…don't know any other way to help." She frowned. "Maybe I should make myself scarce. If she sees that he has a housekeeper, Alma might think that Ennis is 'putting on airs,'" she said, making air quotes with her fingers.

"Airs or no, ain't no way we can live without you for three whole days."

That made her smile. "I have to admit, I'm anxious to meet Alma myself."

"Me, too. I mean…well, I've met her, but I scarcely remember. I'd just seen Ennis for the first time in four years and I doubt I'd remember much of it if I'd met Johnny Cash right then."

Marianne's smile faded. "This is going to be pretty awkward, isn't it?"

Jack thought about denying it, but couldn't quite see his way clear. "Probably. I'm hoping we can all just be civil to each other."

"If I were you, I'd be prepared," Marianne said. "I mean…you're the other woman, Jack. Except you're not a woman. If I were Alma, I'd look at you and see the person that took my husband away."

Jack shifted. "He weren't never hers t'begin with."

"That may very well be the case, but that's probably not how it feels to her. She's the one he married, after all, even if he was thinking of you when he did it."

"That ain't my fault. I didn't tell him to go and marry her."

"Please, Jack. Don't insult my intelligence, or your own. Take some responsibility. You got into it with him up on that mountain when you knew he was engaged. I don't know the first thing about what went on between you on Brokeback, but I know you and I know Ennis, and I'll bet you any amount of money that you made the first move." Jack looked away. "Yeah, I thought so."

"Then I guess this is just all my fault and I deserve what I get, then?" Jack said gruffly.

"I didn't say that. He could've said no. I'm saying that the only truly innocent party here is Alma. She lost Ennis through no fault of her own. She did her best by him, and it wasn't enough. You made it not enough. She lost out. I'm not saying he should have stayed with her. He loved you, and it's only right that he ought to be with you. I'm saying that she has the right to some bitterness, and if she isn't ready or willing to let bygones be bygones and make nice with you, then you'll just have to grit your teeth and take it like a man. Things have consequences, Jack. So don't let me hear you playing the victim if she throws some anger in your direction, because you don't have a leg to stand on. What you have with Ennis is very special, but nothing in the world is free."

Jack stared at her. "Damn, Marianne. Where'd you learn to cut right to the chase like that?"

"I just call it like I see it."

"Yeah, you see it a little too damn clearly for my taste."

"I'll shut up if you want me to. You're the boss."

"No, I guess it's good for me." He shook his head. "Christ, between you 'n Lizzie I ain't gonna have no delusions left, am I?"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "That's a _good_ thing." She smiled and clapped her hands together. "Now, what'd be an appropriate Alma Day breakfast? How about…French toast?"

* * *

"I jus' think it'd be too much at once. She ain't hardly ever left Wyoming, y'know. Now she's halfway across the country, seein' Junior, seein' me for the first time in a year and a half…t'have you there might be pushin' it."

"We oughta be…aw hell, what's the term? A united front. If I stay back, it's like we're sayin' I ain't as important."

"You're readin' too much into it. I'm jus' tryin' t'make things less awkward."

"It's gonna be awkward no matter what we do. I think I oughta be there, so when she gets off the plane, she sees that it's you 'n me there, and that's jus' the way it is."

"Jack, jus' humor me. I don't wanna get into it with you again. Will you jus' stay here?" He watched Jack's face, hoping that just this once, the stubborn asshole would give in.

Jack sighed. "All right, Ennis. I'll stay here, if it's that important."

"I'm jus' tryin' to make things as easy as I can."

"Well, I'm so fuckin' sorry that I make things difficult for you."

Ennis rolled his eyes. "Don't you go puttin' words in my mouth. We got off too easy with this kinda trouble and you know it. Guess that's comin' round on us now."

Jack nodded. "Guess so." He managed a smile. "I'm sorry, I know you're anxious 'bout all this. You don't need me pilin' more shit on you."

"That's for damned sure."

Jack put his hands on Ennis's shoulders. "I'll behave, I promise."

"You damned well better. And we both oughta remember that she's comin' t'see Junior, not to pass no judgment on us."

"Somethin' tells me she'll find a way t'do both."

Ennis smiled. "Maybe so." He leaned in and kissed him. "Okay, we'll be back in a coupla hours. I'll bring her here to the main house first, then Junior can show her round the bungalow."

"Drive careful, now."

Ennis turned and left the house, glad to have finally settled that little issue. Junior was waiting for him in Jack's Mercedes, although it was hardly his anymore since she was the only one who drove it. Ennis got in the passenger seat. "Let's get this over with," he said, as Junior started up the car.

* * *

"What are you gonna say?" Junior muttered. They were standing at the gate, waiting for Alma's plane.

He shrugged. "I thought I'd start with 'hello.'"

She considered this. "I guess you can't go too far wrong with 'hello.'" They fell silent for a few moments. "Did you get her a Christmas present?"

Ennis blinked, dull horror flooding him. "Was I s'posed to?"

Junior sighed heavily. "Daddy, when somebody comes visiting for the holidays you're supposed to get them a present."

"What'm I s'posed to get your mother, Junior? I cain't get her nothing too personal, 'cause it ain't right, but I cain't get her nothin' too impersonal 'cause that's jus' dumb!"

"Just get her a bathrobe or something."

"That's too personal."

"Okay, a book."

"She don't like to read."

"Get her some perfume."

"She don't wear it. Do you even _know_ your mamma? What'd _you_ get her?"

"I knitted her a shawl."

"Oh." That made Ennis feel bad for vague and undefined reasons. "That's awful nice. I didn't know you could knit."

"She taught me."

Ennis thought for a moment. "I'll ask Lizzie. She'll know what to do."

"Meaning you'll just make her go out and get something that you can give to Mamma."

He sniffed. "You say that like it's some kinda bad thing."

She grabbed his arm. "Oh, here they come."

The door to the jetway opened and was propped. Propelled by some strange mix of guilt, panic and ego that he couldn't quite work out, Ennis had bought Alma first-class tickets, so she'd be among the first to disembark.

She emerged, glancing around with big eyes and looking impossibly small to Ennis. _My God, was she always that tiny? She never seemed that tiny back home._

Junior saw her and gave a little squeal, then hurried forward to meet her. Alma saw her coming and her face went slack with relief. Ennis watched as she hugged Junior tightly, her eyes closed. She was wearing jeans and a sweater, and had a purse and a bag over her shoulder.

She and Junior came over to where he was standing. Alma was still smiling as she approached him and met his eyes for the first time. He shuffled a little, trying on a smile of his own. "Hey there, Alma," he said.

"Ennis."

"Your flight okay?"

"Awful fancy," she said, frowning a little. "You ain't had t'put me in the rich-folks' seats. I felt like a poor relation."

"Jus' wanted you t'be comfortable."

"I do jus' fine."

"Well…let's go and get your bags, and get on home."

The word "home" seemed to strike her a bit, but she just nodded. "That sounds fine," was all she said.


	6. Chapter 6

The drive back to the ranch passed quickly. Ennis took over driving so Junior and her mother could talk. Alma was riding shotgun and looking around at the countryside with interest. "It's pretty here," she said.

"You oughta see it in summer, Mamma," Junior said, pouncing on every conversational gambit as she had been the entire trip. "It's real green and lush, with so many trees and flowers."

"It's like something out of a Christmas story," Alma said, watching out her window as they passed farms and houses strung up with bright holiday lights.

"Folks 'round here take the holiday serious," Ennis said.

"How far is it?" Alma asked.

"Not too far now. We're just comin' up on Farmingdale township; ranch is on the other side."

Alma turned to look at him. "Is this home now?" she asked.

He glanced at her. "Yep." What he didn't say was that it was home to him because of Jack. He didn't say it because she didn't need to hear it, and because she already knew it.

He took the long way through town so Alma could have a look at it. Junior pointed out the high school, and the town square, and Peter's office. Alma nodded politely and asked a few questions, but Ennis sensed her impatience to get to the ranch. She hadn't come to see the sights or absorb the New England town atmosphere and it was no use pretendin' otherwise.

The car got quiet as Ennis drew near home. He couldn't speak for Junior or Alma, but he was running over in his head how the hell he'd introduce Jack. He couldn't very well say "This is Jack," because she knew who he was. What else was there to say? He could only hope that Jack would somehow come up with the perfect opening that'd put everyone at ease. If anyone could pull off such a miracle, it'd be Jack.

He crested the hill by the ranch, the big red barn coming into view. Ennis had a momentary flash on the word "FAGGOTS" painted on its side and shoved the image away hard. "There is it, Mamma," Junior said, almost reverently.

Ennis slowed down. Alma looked out the side window at the metal arch over the drive, the words "Brokeback Ranch" in foot-tall iron. She didn't comment on the significance of the name, although it was surely not lost upon her. He pulled into the drive, the house and outbuildings spread out before them looking neat, prosperous and well-kept, capped in picturesque snow hats like frosting. Pride filled him that this was _his_ place, and he was showing to Alma, and she could put that in her pipe and smoke it.

Alma seemed to be holding her breath, leaning forward to look out the front window. "Oh, Ennis," she sighed. He couldn't tell what kind of a sigh it was. "This is your place?" she said, like she couldn't believe it.

"Yep," he said.

She shook her head. "Junior always said you'd done well, but..." Another sigh. "I guess I always thought she might jus' be talkin' you up."

"I wasn't," Junior said.

"I can see that."

Ennis pulled up to the porch steps and parked. "Well, you wanna see inside the place?"

"Guess I'd better," Alma said, opening her door.

They climbed the steps and went inside, Junior leading the way. Ennis crowded behind, his eyes darting around, bracing himself for Jack to come flying out. Surely he'd seen them drive up. He wasn't anywhere in sight. It'd be like him to come barreling in, all hearty and over-the-top welcoming. But as Ennis took coats and removed his own, and Junior led her mother into the living room, there was no sign of him. Ennis couldn't help but be relieved to have a moment to gather his composure.

"Well," he said. "This is it."

Alma was looking around, an odd look on her face. It seemed to him that she was trying to stay aloof but was impressed in spite of herself. He knew that the house was at least three times larger than any house she'd ever lived in her life, including the one she now shared with her so-called well-off husband. "It's real homey," was all she said.

"We ain't fancy."

He saw her brow crinkle just a tiny bit at his use of the word "we," no doubt reminding her just who "we" consisted of. "Did you build it?" she asked.

"Well, not with our own hands, but yeah. Was a house here when we bought the place, but it was fallin' down."

Alma was nodding. She kept nodding as Junior led her to the kitchen, and the seldom-used dining room. Ennis was lagging behind as they went into the hall where the guest rooms were; a slight movement caught his eye. Jack was lurking in the shadows in the hall that led to their room and Junior's old room. He raised his eyebrows and flicked his eyes towards Junior's back. An agreement passed between them in silent glances and gestures. _Should I come out now? Wait till they're back in the living room._

Ennis lingered in the kitchen doorway as Alma and Junior made their way back to the living room. Alma was looking at the free-standing hearth with some interest. Ennis glanced at Jack and beckoned him forward with a tiny jerk of his head. He joined Junior in the living room, Jack following behind. Ennis cleared his throat. "Alma, uh...you remember Jack."

Jack came out from behind him, smiling in a quiet, non-threatening way that didn't presume too much in return. Alma straightened, her face going blank and composed. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I do," she said.

Jack nodded. "Pleasure t'see you, Alma," he said. She just nodded. Jack seemed unfazed by the lack of response. "We're glad t'have you visitin'."

"Are you, now?" she said evenly.

"Sure," Jack went on. "Junior's been missin' you. Families ought to be together at the holiday, don't you think?"

"I do," she said, tightly. "It's, uh..." She seemed to steel herself. "It's kind 'o you and Ennis t'have me." She turned to Junior. "Why don't you show me where I'm sleepin', honey?"

Junior glanced at Jack, then nodded. "Sure, Mamma. Let's get your coat, it's only a short walk." Alma walked past Jack without a look in his direction.

"I'll bring your bags down, Alma," Ennis said. She just nodded back at him as she and Junior disappeared out the front door.

Jack let out a huge exhalation and bent over, hands on his knees. Ennis sighed, shaking his head. "Well, that coulda been worse," Jack said.

"Yeah. No one got slapped, anyway."

* * *

Liz, per Junior's request, was waiting at the bungalow to meet Alma. She felt vaguely nervous, although she had no idea why she ought to. Alma had no cause to dislike _her_, unless her acceptance of Ennis and Jack's relationship qualified her as complicit in their debauchery. She didn't know what to expect. The way Junior told it, her mother was quiet and kind-hearted, but Ennis always seemed to quail before her disapproval, which wasn't like him.

She heard voices on the porch and stood up. Junior came in with Alma following behind. "Mamma," she said, "this is Lizzie."

Liz came forward and extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Monroe," she said. Alma was much smaller than she'd imagined, smaller even than Junior, who was petite. She was pretty in a hardworking way that would turn to a pinched kind of resilience in old age; she wore no makeup and her chestnut hair, the same color as Junior's, was pulled back with a headband. Liz would not have placed her age at almost forty.

Alma gave her a restrained smile and shook Liz's hand. "You can call me Alma. Junior's talked about you a lot."

"I've heard a lot about you, too. Welcome to Farmingdale."

Alma released Liz's hand and looked around the bungalow. "So, this is the bungalow, huh?" She smiled, a tad ruefully. "Bigger'n my house in Gillette."

"I'll show you around," Junior said, leading Alma down the hall. Liz watched them go.

The front door opened again and Ennis came in, carrying Alma's suitcase. He glanced around, nodded to Liz, and set the bag down near the door to the basement. "Guess you met Alma, then," he said.

Liz nodded. "She seems nice enough."

He shrugged. "So far, so good."

"How'd she react to Jack?"

"Better'n I expected. Not exactly friendly, but polite enough, I guess." He sighed. "I jus' want us t'get through this without no trouble. If she's smart, she'll just keep her thoughts to herself."

"What if she doesn't?"

"I'm hopin' she will. She was raised t'be civil, even if she thinks we're disgustin'. I'm prayin' we don't hafta have no confrontations or nothin'."

"Why would you?"

Ennis met her eyes. "I can understand if she's got some hard feelings, and I'm sorry as hell 'bout how things turned out with us. But that don't mean I'm gonna let her be rude t'Jack when she is a guest in his house."

She smiled. "Good for you, Ennis."

He shrugged again. "Was a time I'd've taken anythin' she cared t'dish out and not said nothin', 'cause I thought I deserved it and didn't have no right t'say otherwise." He met her eyes. "That time's past."

Junior and Alma emerged from the hallway. Alma was smiling; she seemed a little more relaxed to Liz. "Thank you, Ennis," she said, quietly, glancing at the suitcase.

"You're welcome," he said. "Junior can show you your room."

Alma blinked. "I've got a room?"

"There's another bedroom in the basement. Y'didn't think we was gonna make you sleep on the couch, didja?" he said, a twinkle of amusement creeping into his eyes.

"I coulda slept on the couch," she said.

"Well, you ain't gonna."

Alma looked around again. "This is a real fine place you built, Ennis." She met his eyes for the first time. "It's nice you done this for Junior."

Ennis shifted his weight. "Leas' I could do," he said. "And you make it sound like I put the place up with my own two hands. All I done was write checks."

"Still." An uncomfortable silence fell between the four of them.

"Well," Ennis said, rubbing his hands together. "I guess I'll leave you gals t'yourselves. Me 'n Jack are goin' t'Burlington tomorrow t'do some Christmas shoppin', but Marianne'll be at the house all day. We'll be back for dinner."

Junior smiled brightly. "Okay, Daddy."

He looked around at each of them in turn. "G'night, then."

Alma nodded. "G'night."

After Ennis left, the three of them stood in an awkward group by the basement door for a few beats until Junior took it upon herself to break the silence. "C'mon, Mamma. I'll show you your room." She picked up Alma's suitcase and led her down the basement stairs. Liz watched them go, not envying Junior's rather intractable position in all this.

* * *

Junior watched her mother's eyes as they came into the guest bedroom. It was nothing fancy, square and wood-paneled like the rest of the house, but it was pleasant enough.

Alma put down her purse and coat, looking around. "This is real nice," she commented.

"There's a bathroom out there, next to the laundry," Junior said, pointing back through the door.

Alma sat down on the bed, the tension seeming to leave her now that they were alone. She patted the bed next to her and Junior joined her. "You're lookin' real well, honey," Alma said.

Junior blushed. "Thanks."

"I guess this place agrees with you."

"It sure does." Junior was torn. On the one hand, she wanted to gush about how much she loved school and the ranch, but on the other hand, she didn't want to hurt her mother's feelings by going on and on about how much better her life was now. "It's all so different."

She should have known that Alma wouldn't be fooled. "It's okay if you like it here better'n at home," she said, quietly. "I know things wasn't so nice for you there."

Junior shrugged. "It just felt like I didn't have no place," she said.

Alma sighed. "Well, I can see that your father can do a lot more for you than I ever could."

"You done so much for me already, Mamma. 'Bout time he did his share, don't you think?"

Alma chuckled. "Maybe so, honey."

Junior felt some of the anxiety that had been lying across her shoulders since her mother's plane landed start to ease off. "I'm glad you're here," she said.

Alma met her eyes, then drew back a little. "I ain't gonna lie to you, honey. I don't understand your father no more. I don't know how he can live like he does and show his face. Time was he at least had some shame, but now seems he's walkin' around like he ain't never known it was wrong, like he's _proud_ of…" She broke off, then started again. "I don't like you bein' around all that, and seein' it every day. But I don't get no say, do I? Your daddy's a grownup, and much as it pains me, so're you, and you'll live where you like and do what you like." She nodded. "I didn't come here t'make no discomfort. I jus' wanted t'see you, and my intention is just t'pretend that nothin' else is even there."

Junior shook her head. "Mamma, I sure wish you could maybe talk t'Jack. Get t'know him a little bit."

"I don't care to."

"Cain't you at least try?"

Alma looked at her for a long moment. "You're real fond 'o him, ain't you?"

"He's a good man."

"That good man came between me 'n your daddy," Alma said, an edge coming into her voice. "It's his doin' we split up."

Junior hesitated, then decided that she was a grown-up and she'd speak her mind, whether Alma liked it or not. "You sure 'bout that?" she asked, quietly. "You really think you and Daddy'd still be together if there'd been no Jack, Mamma?"

"What's that s'posed t'mean?"

"Just that...well, you're different people, that's all. And it wasn't him wanted the divorce, and it wasn't because of Jack, was it? Daddy could have left us and gone off with Jack, but he didn't. He stayed."

Alma sighed from deep in her chest. "I guess that's how you would see it," she said.

"How else should I see it?"

"He spent our whole marriage thinkin' of someone else," Alma bit out. "He…he was _unfaithful_ t'me with that man. You think that ain't like a poison?"

"Maybe it is. I just don't think Jack's to blame that you and Daddy didn't stay together. You didn't even _know_ about them until after the divorce. And aren't you better off now? You seem happier with Monroe, anyway."

"That don't mean I don't wish things had been different with your father." Alma put two fingers to her temple, as if she had the beginnings of a headache. "You don't need t'hear all this, honey. It ain't right."

"I'm a grownup now, Mamma. And I think I have a right t'know about this stuff."

A flash of anger crossed Alma's face. "I don't know if you can understand, seein' as it seems y'think it was perfectly okay for your father t'leave me for a _man!_"

Junior paused to take a deep breath. "He didn't leave you, Mamma. You left him."

Alma smiled, a little sadly. "That's what you don't understand, Junior. He'd already left me before we were even married." She sighed. "And you're wrong when you say that I didn't know about them."

* * *

If this was the reaction it prompted, then Jack would have been content to have Alma visit a lot more often. He couldn't be sure there was a connection; all he knew was that Alma was here, and now Ennis was giving it to him hard and fast.

The sheets had been kicked off and were balled up at the foot of the bed. Ennis was braced on one elbow and hanging on to the headboard with his other hand. He was gasping for breath and damn near growling, his eyes screwed shut, sweat beading on his brow. Jack's legs were wrapped around his chest, his fingers digging into Ennis's ass, hanging on for dear life as he bucked and plunged like he was trying to pound Jack clear through the mattress.

"God_damn_," Jack hissed, as Ennis sank deep again. He arched off the bed and clenched around him.

"Fuck," Ennis grunted, the word strangled through his twisted face. "Oh, God…Jack…" He bent and kissed him hard, forcing his mouth open as he redoubled his efforts. Jack felt his eyes rolling back in his head and he tried to keep kissing Ennis, but it was like trying to hang onto a kite in a windstorm. He felt Ennis plant his knees and thrust once, twice, then shudder and collapse in a heap on Jack's chest. _'Bout time,_ he thought. _I was done five minutes ago._

Jack put his arms around Ennis's chest; it heaved under his hands as Ennis caught his breath. "Shit," he murmured into his ear. "You ain't done me like that in awhile." Ennis was kissing his neck now, working his way up to Jack's ear. Jack grabbed his face and turned it towards him. "Got somethin' to prove tonight?"

Ennis sighed and propped up on one elbow, looking down at him. "Don't think so."

"Well, pardon me for sayin' so, but it ain't every night that you go at me like a goddamned piledriver."

"Maybe it oughta be."

"I ain't complainin'. Just wonderin' why."

Ennis slid off him and flopped to his back, exhaling in exasperation. "Well, if it's this troublin', I guess I jus' won't bother next time."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Fine, don't tell me."

"What you wanna hear? That havin' Alma here's makin' me wanna stake out my turf or somethin'? That she's no more'n fifty yards away and I'm just sendin' her a big old fuck-you by havin' you eight ways from Sunday?"

"Huh. Them're some interestin' theories you got there."

"Fuck you."

"Again?"

They laid there in silence for a few moments, then Ennis started to chuckle. Jack just waited. "You fuckin' asshole," Ennis muttered, still laughing under his breath. "Goddamn, but you play me like a fiddle sometimes."

"You make it way too easy, y'know."

"I know." He turned his head on the pillow to meet Jack's eyes. "It's jus' 'cause ain't nobody ever known me like you do."

"Not even her?"

"Not even close."

Jack smiled, feeling that familiar bloom of happy warmth in his chest that he always got whenever Ennis said something sweet to him. He'd been getting that bloom more and more over the last year, and he hoped he wasn't getting spoiled. He scooted closer and drew Ennis into his embrace; he came eagerly enough, tucking his head down into Jack's neck, their legs tangling together as they reached down to draw up the covers again. Settled now, Jack began to relax. "She was polite enough tonight," he murmured.

Ennis grunted. "Barely two sentences. Cain't hardly tell yet."

"Still. Coulda been a _bad_ two sentences."

"She'll just hafta get used to our life of sin and perversion."

Jack sobered, thinking of what Marianne had said to him that morning. "It's okay if she hates me," he said. "I'd hate me too, if I was her."

Ennis sighed. "But it ain't okay for her t'be mean about it." He fell silent for a few moments, his hand slowly stroking Jack's upper arm. "I think she knew," he whispered.

"Knew what?"

"About us. The fishin' years."

That gave Jack pause. He'd wondered, but he had no reason to think that Alma had ever gotten wise to them while she and Ennis were married. He'd thought she probably hadn't, or else she would have brought it up at the divorce. It would have given her a considerable advantage if she could prove that Ennis had been unfaithful to her, let alone with a man. "What makes y'think so?"

"I dunno. I been thinkin' on it for a real long time. I dunno how she coulda found out or why she didn't ever say nothin', I jus'…" He sighed again. "Maybe I'm jus' bein' paranoid."

"You? Naw."

He felt Ennis smile. "Hush up, now. Jus' 'cause you're paranoid don't mean stuff ain't true."

"You're right about that." He paused. "You gonna ask her?"

"Maybe best let sleepin' dogs lie. Ain't no reason t'bring it up now. I'm awful curious, though. Jus' seemed like when I told her I was leavin' with you that she weren't too surprised."

"Well, it _was_ kinda suspicious. All them fishin' trips, and you never did take home no fish. And I don't know about you, but when time got short till I was gonna see you again, I couldn't help it, I got excited and happy. I know damn well that Lureen noticed. Maybe Alma did, too."

"Maybe so."

Jack kissed Ennis's forehead. "Maybe we weren't foolin' nobody after all."

"Just ourselves."

* * *

Alma woke up before seven, as she always did. After a moment of disorientation, she remembered where she was. _Oh. I'm visitin' Junior. I'm at Ennis's house. His huge house. With his huge guest house on his huge ranch that he built with all his money._

She sighed and got up, wondering how on God's green earth things had turned out the way they had. She lived an honest, decent life with her successful husband (who'd been considered quite a catch before he'd married her) and what had it gotten her but one daughter near lost to a religious cult, another with grand ideas so big they'd driven her away, a pair of unruly sons that didn't appreciate anything and a boring life with a man who was little more than a fond acquaintance.

But then Ennis, who had cheated on her with a man for years, refused to build a life with her, and fled halfway across the country with his lover (the word made her shudder a little), how had _he_ been rewarded? With a hugely successful business, more money than she'd probably see in her life, a beautiful ranch, and apparently a life full of friends and laughter.

Alma worked very hard at not being bitter. It wasn't productive, and it wasn't Christian. Most days, it was real hard work. Being here now, it was damned near impossible.

_At least Junior's happy._ That much was crystal clear. She loved the ranch, and her life here. She even loved…_him._ The things Junior had said to her the night before weighed heavy on her mind. _He didn't leave you, you left him._ Except for all the times when he left her for days to meet Jack Twist up in the mountains. _He could have gone off with Jack, but he stayed._ Stayed and hated her for not being him. Stayed and pushed her away as he turned lonesome and frustrated because she wasn't him. Stayed and stayed and stayed until she had to be the one to call it off, wanting nothing more than to scream at him _Why don't you just leave, because I ain't never gonna be him?_

She showered and dressed, resolving not to think on it anymore. It was all done, and that was all. She'd loved Ennis and he hadn't loved her back, because he was full of Jack Twist and there was nothing for it. Maybe she shouldn't blame Jack for that, but she did.

The smell of coffee drew her upstairs. She found Liz, the reporter, making toast. "Mornin'," she said. "Can I help you with that?"

"Oh, it's fine," Liz said. "Want some coffee?"

"That'd be real nice, thanks. Black."

Liz handed her a mug. "Thought I'd make some eggs, too."

"Toast does me jus' fine."

Liz smiled. "Me, too. Toast it is." She brought a plate of toast and they went to the small dining table. "Junior's still asleep," she said, anticipating Alma's question. "It's her vacation, so she's been sleeping till ten or so."

"You're up early."

"I like to be in the office by eight."

"You're some kinda manager, right?"

"I take care of the paperwork and the accounting for the ranch. Office work, so Jack and Ennis can be out in the field."

Alma nodded. She knew the outlines of this woman's history with the ranch from Junior. "You write some kinda column for the paper, too?"

"Yep. It's about me being a city girl and living here in the country."

"Big adjustment, I bet."

"It was at first, but now it just feels like home."

"Can I read one 'o your columns?" Liz hesitated, an odd look coming over her face. "What? Don't you got any handy?"

"No, it isn't that, it's…" She took a deep breath. "It's just that the most recent one was about Ennis and Jack. I'd mentioned them in the column in passing, and I got a lot of letters from people asking if they were…you know. Together. So I wrote a column about them." She gave her a forced smile. "Might not be too comfortable for you to read."

Alma straightened up a bit. Liz was undoubtedly right about that, but Alma'd be damned if she'd show it in front of a stranger. "I'll see for myself, thanks."

Liz shrugged, and went to a stack of newspapers by the door. She picked one up and flipped through it until she found the right page, then slid it across the table. "There you go."

Alma steeled herself, and started to read.

* * *

Liz watched the top of Alma's head, rerunning the words of the column in her own. _I talked about their upbringing, and what their life is like, and what it cost to get here…_ None of it would probably be easy for this woman to read.

It didn't take long for Alma to finish the column. She looked up at Liz, her face neutral. She fingered the paper for a moment, then cleared her throat. "That's how you see them, is it?" she said, quietly.

Liz nodded. "But it's perfectly understandable that you don't."

Alma sniffed. "It's hard to hear somethin' praised that ruined my life."

"Pardon me for saying so, but…your life doesn't seem ruined."

"The life I was supposed to have with Ennis sure as hell is." She met Liz's eyes, confusion evident in her gaze. "I don't understand how anybody could…they're both _men._" She looked away, shaking her head.

"They love each other." Alma's head snapped around again. "You know that, right? Isn't that what's important?"

"No," Alma said flatly. "Ain't more important than doin' what's right."

"They are."

"It is against God's law, miss. You can dress it up all flowery and romantic all you like, it don't change nothin'."

Liz bit back the many responses to this statement that sprang to her mind. She wasn't here to debate the legitimacy of homosexuality with her best friend's ex-wife. "Well, you have a right to that opinion," was all she said.

Alma nodded. "I also had a right to expect that my husband would be true to me, but that don't seem t'matter," she said. There was no anger in her voice, just sadness.

"None of this was your fault, you know," Liz said. Alma didn't respond. "And you're right. You got screwed. You didn't deserve any of this."

Alma sniffed. "S'nice of you t'say."

"It's true. Ennis says that all the time, and so does Jack."

This time, it was more like a snort than a sniff. "What, you tellin' me that they ever spare one single thought to what they done t'me?"

"More than one. They both have a lot of guilt about what their relationship did to you, and to Jack's wife. Ennis, especially, gets hung up on it from time to time."

Alma shifted in her chair. "He does?"

"Absolutely. He's terribly sorry that he ever hurt you. Hasn't he ever told you that?"

"We ain't exactly been havin' heart-to-heart talks since he's lived here."

"Maybe you should start."

Alma considered this, then nodded. "Maybe so."


	7. Chapter 7

Marianne glanced over her shoulder, wondering what had become of Alma. She'd just excused herself to go to the bathroom and she'd been gone rather longer than was normal. Junior was in the living room, chatting with one of her school friends who'd rung her, and Alma had been helping Marianne with the Christmas cooking.

Frowning, Marianne dusted off her hands, tossed her dishtowel over her shoulder and went to poke her head out into the hallway. Alma was standing in the middle of the hall, staring blank-faced into the open door of Jack and Ennis's bedroom. Marianne sighed and approached her. She didn't look over at Marianne's approach. Marianne just stood there, waiting for her to say something.

"This here's their room, huh?" Alma said.

Marianne nodded. "Sure is." She followed Alma's gaze, wondering what she saw when she looked at it. It was odd to think that in Alma's mind, the room's very existence probably symbolized something immoral and detestable; to Marianne it was so familiar and ordinary. Wood floors, white-painted walls, windows looking out into the backyard. Of course the bed, a king-sized Mission-style pine bed that Jack had found at an estate sale for two hundred bucks. It was neatly made up and covered in an intricate blue-and-white crazy quilt that had always reminded Marianne of stoneware pottery. The quilt had been a not-wedding gift from Pastor Greenfield and his wife; she was an accomplished quilter and ownership of one of her masterpieces was a town status symbol. Even Jack had been quite speechless when they'd unwrapped it the day after the party.

Marianne's eyes ticked off the everyday details of the room. Jack's boots lying by the foot of the bed. A book open upside down on the bedside table. A picture of Junior and Francie on the bureau. Someone's flannel shirt hanging on the bathroom doorknob. If Alma was under any illusions about the reality of her ex-husband's relationship, this room bore silent witness to it.

"It's...tidy," Alma said. "You keep it that way?"

"I help out. They're pretty neat, as men go."

Alma shook her head, then sighed and went on into the bathroom at the end of the hall. Marianne returned to the kitchen and picked up her rolling pin. She didn't even hear Alma return until she spoke. "You worked here long?" Alma asked, taking a seat on one of the barstools along the other side of the kitchen counter.

"Five years."

Pause. "Is Ennis good to work for?"

"Sure. He doesn't make demands, he treats me with respect. I make a good wage, more than's really normal for a housekeeper. He isn't much of a talker, though."

The ghost of a smile passed across Alma's face. "I guess some things don't change."

"He talks more than he used to, according to Jack." Alma said nothing, but her eyes were flinty. Marianne sighed, her urge to talk to this woman at war with her urge to mind her own business. As usual, minding her own business was left in the dust. "I know it isn't my place to say, but I think it took a lot of guts for you to come out here."

"Jus' wanted t'see Junior."

"Still."

Alma glanced up at her. "I knew it'd be bad, but I didn't know it'd be this bad. I thought I'd made my peace. It's been so long since...well, I was wrong."

"Maybe it's time to mend those fences."

"I don't know if I can."

"You can. If you had the nerve to come out here and face it, then you can. It's easy to stay mad, after all. Anybody can do that. But not everybody's strong enough to fix what's broken."

"Might not be worth the trouble. I'm leavin' here in a few days and goin' back t'my life. What's it matter if me'n Ennis make up or not? It won't change nothin'."

"I bet it matters to Junior. And it might change _you._"

Alma looked at her steadily, a thoughtful look on her face. "You're awful wise for a housekeeper."

Marianne smiled. "I wasn't aware that housekeepers weren't allowed to be wise."

Alma shrugged. "I jus' never met one that was."

* * *

Junior was allowing herself to be optimistic about her mother's visit for the first time. It was only the afternoon of the first day, but so far things seemed to be going well. She and Alma had chatted about ordinary mother/daughter topics...haircuts, boys, classes...like no time had passed, and Alma seemed reasonably comfortable in the house with Marianne. She was grateful to her father for contriving to get himself and Jack away for the first day, to let Alma get used to being here without the added stress of their presence.

Now she was driving her mother to Middlebury; she wanted to show her the campus. Conversation had lagged, and they were riding in peaceful silence. Alma was watching the scenery go by, her body language relaxed. "It surely is pretty here," she said, echoing her sentiments of the night before.

Junior nodded. "I did love visiting before I moved here."

"Francie liked it, too." Alma cleared her throat. "Jack's got a boy, right?"

Junior frowned, unsure how to respond. "Um...yeah."

"Did he visit over summers, like you girls?"

"He did, yeah." Junior sensed that her mother was working around to asking if Junior had ever met Bobby.

"Is he comin' for the holiday, then?"

Junior shut her eyes for a moment, wishing that it wasn't her who had to answer this question. "Mamma...Bobby died last summer."

Alma blinked, frowning. "He what?"

"He died. Killed himself."

"Oh." Alma didn't seem to know how to respond to that. "How old was he?"

"Seventeen."

She shook her head. "That's awful, just awful. I didn't know."

"No, why would you?"

"I guess...that musta been real hard for Jack."

"Yeah, it was. It still gets to him now and then. Did you see that framed red jersey in the hall back at the house?"

"Yeah."

"That was Bobby's football jersey. Lureen...that's Jack's ex-wife...she sent a box of some of his things along after he died."

Alma nodded. "Nice idea t'frame it up like that."

"Yeah, Daddy did that as a surprise for him."

Silence. "Your father did that? I mean...he had the idea and then did that for him?"

Junior glanced at her mother. "Yes, he did."

She sighed. "That ain't the Ennis I knew. I guess I didn't know him as well as I thought."

Junior let that go by. "Liz told me that Jack flew down to Texas for Bobby's funeral and that it was real bad. Big scene with Lureen's father, there was some kinda bad blood with the note Bobby left, I don't really know the details."

"That's okay, it ain't our business." Alma was silent for a moment. "I cain't imagine losin' a child, especially like that." Another beat. "Of course if he'd had a daddy around, maybe he wouldn'ta..."

"Oh, Mamma, don't start that, now," Junior said, fighting down irritation. "Jack's got enough guilt over it as it is."

"He oughta have guilt. I know you think it's all hearts 'n flowers, Junior, but what he done, and what your father done...it weren't jus' them in it, y'know. There was me, and you girls, and Jack's wife and son, too. Lots 'o people got hurt that didn't do them no wrong."

"They _did_ do them wrong!" Junior exclaimed, unable to stop herself. "The whole damn _world_ did, Mamma! If everybody and their damn brother wasn't tellin' them that it was a sin and a disgusting abomination then maybe no one woulda got hurt at all, did you ever think of that?"

"If you're so smart, little girl, then why don't you tell how you can argue for somethin' that'd mean you wouldn'ta never been born?"

"Well, I _was_ born, and if it'd been different and I wasn't then I wouldn't know any better, would I?"

* * *

Jack struggled up the stairs, burdened with packages. "Christ, life was much fuckin' easier when I was poor and ain't had the dime t'buy gifts for nobody."

"Shut up and get the goddamned door open. And don't let no one come snoopin'."

He armed the door open, somehow managing to turn the doorknob without dropping his armload of gifts, and staggered inside. "Men with presents comin' through!" he yelled. "Everbody clear the way! Keep your eyes t'yourself, now!" He headed down the hall, the scent of Christmas baking filling his nose. "Damn, somethin' sure smells good in here." He dumped the packages on the floor by the guest bed, Ennis close behind him.

The kitchen, when they made it there, was full of welcoming smells; baked goods were stacked everywhere. Marianne was washing dishes while Alma and Junior frosted cookies. They were smiling and talking together; Alma spread the white icing on each cookie for Junior to decorate. They all looked up when he and Ennis entered. "Get all your shopping done?" Junior asked.

"Most of it, yeah," Jack said, coming forward to snag a cookie.

"I still got a few things to get," she said. "I got no idea what to get for you or Daddy."

Alma nodded. "Men sure are hard to buy presents for." She glanced at Lizzie, who was sitting at the kitchen table with some papers spread out in front of her. "You got somethin' for your fella, Liz?"

Liz sighed. "I don't suppose a coupon for free footrubs will be enough, will it?"

Junior laughed. "Oh, I dunno. It might!"

Marianne was drying her hands. "Well, I'm off, then. Dinner's on the stove and there's bread in the box." She glanced around at the suddenly-quiet group. Jack was seized with a sudden desperation for Marianne to stay. She was such a calming presence, like a buffer that kept all of them from awkwardly bumping up against one other like too many balls in a pinball machine. If she left, they'd have to deal with each other. But he couldn't very well keep her here forever. "It was nice to meet you, Alma. I'll be seeing you tomorrow, then."

She put on her coat and everyone bid Marianne goodbye, watching her go with identically fearful expressions. The door closed behind her and silence fell in the kitchen. Alma and Junior kept on with their cookie decorating. Ennis was pretending to look at the evening paper. Lizzie was shuffling her papers, and Jack was chewing the cookie that suddenly tasted like sand. He swallowed with effort. "Well, it ain't too cold tonight. I'm gonna go out and light the firepit."

Ennis nodded. "We'll get supper ready, then."

Jack went out to the back porch, which they always kept well clear of snow. It was sheltered from the winds by the house and the surrounding trees; it was often comfortable enough, even in winter, to sit out here after dinner, especially with the firepit going. Jack stirred the ashes and fetched some logs and kindling. He could see through the back window Lizzie setting the table and Alma washing her hands at the sink.

The fire was soon crackling merrily away. Jack stared into the flames, wondering which would hurt worse: jumping into the fire, or going in to dinner.

* * *

"You met any nice boys at school, Junior?" Alma asked, breaking a significant period of silence. At least they had a good excuse not to talk; their mouths were occupied with chicken and dumplings. Liz didn't think she'd ever get tired of Marianne's cooking. She'd put on about five pounds since moving here, but it was worth it.

Junior flushed in response to her mother's question. "Oh, Mamma. I've got a few friends, sure. Nobody special."

Jack chuckled. "Don't you listen to that, Alma. I reckon there's one boy she's sweet on, all right."

"Jack!" Junior said, flushing redder but smiling. "You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"The hell I don't. I seen the way you was lookin' at that boy Allan."

"Who's this Allan, now?" Ennis growled.

"You met him, Daddy. He's from just outside Stowe, I told you about him."

Ennis just grunted. "Don't recall. Couldn'ta been too impressive if I cain't even remember him."

"You remember him," Jack chided him. "Big fella, red hair."

"Oh, yeah." Ennis sniffed. "When'd you meet him?"

"Last week when I took Junior her notebook. While you 'n Liz was up at Dave's, remember?"

"Reckon so. You think this Allan's fit for my daughter then, rodeo?"

"Daddy! I'm not dating Allan! Jack, tell him."

"She ain't datin' him, Ennis. But he seemed all right to me…that is, if she might be changin' her mind 'bout the datin'," Jack said, dropping a wink at Junior.

"Yeah, well you ain't no kinda judge 'o people," Ennis said. "I seem t'recall you once tellin' me that Rory was smart and competent."

"He musta been havin' one a his good days."

Liz was hardly listening to this typical dinnertime banter. She was watching Alma's face, and the growing realization upon it that they sounded like a family; one that didn't include her.

* * *

Jack took a deep breath and shut his eyes. _Now's as good a time as any, you chickenshit,_ he told himself. _Go on out there and talk to her. She ain't the fuckin' Devil incarnate._

Alma was sitting in one of the deck chairs, pulled up to the firepit, a shawl around her shoulders. She was alone for the moment; Lizzie had gone down to the bungalow with a headache, Ennis was checking the horses, and Junior was on the phone with one of her friends. This was his chance.

He steeled himself and opened the back door, his peace offering of cocoa clutched in one hand.

She looked up as he came around the back of her chair and sat down next to her, but said nothing. He handed her the mug. That, at least, earned him a tight smile. "Thank you," she said.

He nodded. "No problem." He stretched his legs out towards the fire, crossing them at the ankle. "I love sittin' out here in winter. All around is cold, everythin' natural is sleepin', and here we are in the outdoors toasty 'n warm."

She sniffed. "It's real nice."

He chuckled. "Junior wants us t'put in some kinda hot tub or somethin', but I told her I dunno why she'd want t'do…"

"Stop it."

He stared at the fire, his train of thought derailed. "Sorry?"

She kept her eyes on the fire, too. "I said stop it. I know what you're doin' and I ain't havin' it." She turned her head slowly and looked at him, waiting patiently until he met her eyes. "I am not interested in makin' friends with you, Jack."

He nodded, heaving a sigh. "I guess I cain't blame you for that. But y'know, I think it's in everbody's best interests if we can at least be civil."

"You suggestin' I ain't been civil?"

"No."

"Because I think I've been very polite, considerin'. I was raised proper. This is your house and I ain't gonna disrespect you under your own roof. You sayin' that ain't enough?"

"I got no call t'complain."

Silence. Jack felt shaky, like he was cold and couldn't get warm, even though he was plenty warm.

After what felt like hours, Alma spoke again. "He was mine first," she said. Jack shivered again. Her voice was quiet, almost gentle, but full of a steely bitterness that she'd built up over many years. "Everbody seems t'forget that. He was mine first 'n you took him away."

Jack didn't know what to say. "It ain't like we planned it," he murmured.

"I ain't interested in the details. He was spoken for and you knew it."

"We shouldn't be talkin' about this."

"Why the hell not? I saved up these words for sixteen years."

Jack frowned. "Sixteen?"

She sniffed. He couldn't tell if it was a sniff of disgust, or the beginning of tears. "Yeah. Ever since you come t'see him in '67." She paused. "Ever since I saw you kissin' him in the stairwell. In my own damn front yard. Then y'come up t'say howdy nice as you please, like ain't nothin' to it."

Jack's head was spinning. _My God, she knew. She knew the whole time._ "You saw that?" he whispered.

He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. "I know you 'n him think I'm simple and slow, but I kept my own counsel for nine damned years. Watchin' him go off t'see you. Knowing what he was thinkin' of when…" She broke off cleanly.

"Why didn't you ever…"

"Because he was _mine first,_" she repeated, her voice cracking a little on the last two words. "He made his vows t'me, not t'you. I wanted a life with him and I wasn't gonna just let some…some _man_ take it away."

The irony of it all was too much. Helpless chuckles rose in his chest. He saw her turn her head and glare at him. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just…" He sighed and collected himself. "You 'n me are more alike than you know, Alma."

Her face hardened and she faced the fire again. "How you figure that?"

"We both spent them years wantin' somethin' from him that he couldn't give either one of us."

"Except that you got in in the end, Jack. I tried t'forgive you for that 'cause that's the Christian thing t'do, but maybe I ain't so Christian after all."

Jack took a breath. "You still love him, don't you?" She sat still and quiet. A barely perceptible nod of her head was all the response he got. "Yeah, thought so. That's the thing. I love him, too." He saw her face twist in disgust but didn't acknowledge it. "Goddamn," he breathed. "What is it about that son of a bitch could drive two level-headed folks like you 'n me to such ends?"

Alma shook her head, and Jack was amazed to hear her chuckle a little. "God knows. He ain't so damned special."

Jack hesitated. "I think he is," he said, quietly.

A long few minutes passed during which Jack and Alma sat in silence, sipping their cocoa and watching the fire pop and settle. Alma shifted, pulling her shawl closer around her shoulders. "I was, uh…sorry t'hear about your boy," she said.

Jack blinked. That was not what he'd been expecting her to say. "Thank you," he said, thoughts of Bobby bubbling up from the depths of his mind where he kept them safely hidden away.

"Worst thing that can happen to a parent."

"Yeah." He hesitated. "Some folks'd say it's my punishment for bein' queer." He saw her flinch at the word. He'd meant for her to.

"That's an awful thing t'say to anyone."

"But you don't exactly disagree, do you?"

"You don't fear God's damnation at all?"

"God would have a lotta nerve damnin' me for the way he made me, and the person he sent me."

"He made us all with the inclination t'do wrong at times. Hard part's not doin' it." Alma shook her head. "I ain't never gonna understand either 'o you. Ennis used t'be a God-fearin' man."

"Still is."

"Y'can't fear God and break his laws every day."

"I'll risk hellfire later if I get t'live this life now. It's worth it. I know you cain't see it, but we lead Christian lives. We go to church. We help our neighbors and give to charity and lend a hand t'the less fortunate. We ain't no kinda monsters."

She seemed to shrink a little into her deck chair. "I don't think you're a monster. But I spent a lotta years hatin' on you, Jack."

"Don't you think I spent them same years hatin' on you?"

That seemed to surprise her. "What call you got t'hate me?"

"Was you keepin' him from me. You and the girls. He stayed there outta loyalty t'you and I got stuck with a coupla lousy fishin' trips a year."

"With us was his rightful place."

"Well, that's debatable."

She sighed again, her teeth grinding a little. "You got no idea what you done t'me," she murmured. "You ain't no kinda man t'take someone away from his wife and children. I don't know how you look in the mirror."

Jack felt his chest clenching with all the things he wasn't saying to her. "It ain't my fault you left him," he bit out. He sensed Alma tense up.

"He left me long before that." She shook her head. "I knew it'd come to this. Ever since I saw you 'n him in that stairwell, I knew it. I tried t'make things nice for him, and be what he needed, but I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That you would win in the end," she whispered. "I knew 'cause he ain't never kissed me the way he kissed you. He ain't never looked at me the way he looked at you. I knew it but it took me long years to really believe it."

"You did all right. Got a nice husband now, ain't you?"

"Bill's a good man, a decent man."

"I guess that'd be important."

Alma was looking fixedly at the ring on Jack's finger. He saw her jaw clench a few times, then she faced forward again, blank. "That some kinda ring?" she said.

Jack knew what she meant. "It is."

"He got one too?"

"Yep."

Her shudder was visible. "That don't make no kinda sense." She shook her head, her chin trembling. "Pretendin' t'somethin' ain't yours t'have."

"We ain't pretendin'. He ain't pretendin'."

She sniffed. "No, I guess he ain't. It was with me that he did the pretendin'. Tried t'make me into you, I think sometimes. Didn't know it till later. Hidin' away so no one'd know he was a damned faggot."

Jack's jaw clenched. "Alma, I am a patient man, and you got your right t'bad feelings, but I ain't gonna sit here and let you say that kinda shit about my husband." She said nothing. "And I don't wanna hear you sayin' that shit around Junior, neither."

She sucked in a breath and turned her whole body towards him, her face tight with anger. "Don't you _dare_ tell me how t'talk t'my own daughter," she said. "It's bad enough she is livin' here with the two 'o you, seein' it day in and day out. Now you gonna go actin' like you got some kinda rights t'her?"

Jack met her eyes with a level gaze. "Well, she sleeps under my roof and I pay for her keep and her schoolin'. And I love her, like she was my own child. So yeah, I reckon I got some say in the matter. And don't you go thinkin' you're gonna score no points with her by badmouthin' me or Ennis. She won't stand for it any more'n I will."

"I guess you think you know her, then."

"Reckon so."

"Weren't enough t'take my man, now you gotta take my daughter, too?" She was near tears.

He sighed. "Alma, I ain't takin' her. She loves you. And you can stop talkin' about how I took your man away or some shit, 'cause it takes two. I ain't never twisted his arm, y'know."

"You got other ways."

"I ain't no kinda mastermind! Christ! Y'think I planned this? Y'think I went up on that mountain set on seducin' him? All I wanted was a goddamn summer's pay and time away from my old man! What I got was near fifteen years 'o hell tryin' to forget that son of a bitch and watchin' him drive away from me time after time. So you can quit the poor-me routine, 'cause you tossed him aside well before I came to pick up what was left of him, and it weren't much. He'd've stayed with you till he died and I'd've stayed in Texas till I fuckin' drank myself to death! Why'd you leave him if you wanted him so goddamned bad?"

"Because I wasn't you!" she cried. "And I couldn't take that look in his eyes no more, that look that said how he wished I was!"

Jack didn't have a response for that. They sat in silence for a few minutes, but the air felt clearer. "I guess we had this comin' for a long time," he finally said.

She nodded. "I'm tired, Jack. I got a new life, a new family. I gotta leave all this behind me. Ain't right."

"Y'got no argument from me on that."

She stood up, drawing her shawl around her. She started towards the house, then turned back. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Sure."

"Does he…" She stopped and cleared her throat, looking away. "Does he say it to you?" Jack met her eyes and the hope in them damn near broke his heart. The hope that he'd say no, that it was just something left out of Ennis and not something incomplete about her.

He nodded. "Yeah. He does."

She sagged a little. "Well, that's that then. 'Cause he ain't never said it t'me." She managed a tight little smile and headed into the house.

Jack sat where he was, his cocoa cold on the armrest of the deck chair, feeling drained and limp. That had been both more and less horrible than he'd imagined it would be, and he couldn't really tell if any progress had been made at all. All they'd done was bounce things off each other. Maybe that was all they _could_ do.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps to see Ennis climbing the stairs from the yard. "How long was you listenin', then?"

"Oh, 'bout since she called me a faggot." He sat in the chair Alma had just vacated.

"Good, then y'heard me leap to your defense."

"My hero." Ennis held out his hand and Jack took it gratefully. "That cain't've been pleasant."

"Had t'be done."

"What'd she say?"

Jack thought about telling Ennis that they'd been spotted all those years ago, but it didn't feel like it was his place to say. It was between them. "Nothin' that'd surprise you."

"She still hate your guts, then?"

"Hard t'say. I think she's resigned."

"She oughta be after seven years." Ennis shook his head. "I don't know where she gets off actin' like all this ruined her life. She ain't doin' so bad."

"C'mon, cowboy. Even you ain't that thick. You was her dream, the kind young girls have when they lie in their beds at night and think about their lives and their weddings and the man they'll marry. She had it for awhile and then it all got fucked up in the worst way. That ain't never gonna heal."

"Ain't you Mr. Sensitive. How come's you know so much about my ex-wife, then?"

"Aww, I dunno. Kinda feel like we're the same in some way. We both spent enough years pinin' for your sorry ass, we oughta be goddamned kindred spirits."

"Except you're done pinin'."

"Thank God."

Ennis squeezed his fingers and stood, pulling Jack to his feet. "C'mon. I wanna catch the late news and see if it's gonna snow this week."

Jack followed Ennis inside. Junior, Alma and Liz were in the living room watching TV, all three of them knitting, which tickled him. He sat down on the couch, and was surprised when Ennis sat down next to him and took his hand, casual like it was any other day. He watched Alma out of his peripheral vision, but she didn't even spare them a glance.


	8. Chapter 8

Alma washed her hands at the bathroom sink, then leaned a little closer to the mirror. She turned her head to one side, looking at the crow's feet that had taken up residence at the corners of her eyes. She was getting old, and no mistake. Her daughter was grown, her younger daughter nearly so, her boys going to be young men soon. She wasn't vain, but the signs of age weren't happy developments for anyone.

She thought of Bill, at his folks' house with the boys and Francine. She'd had a talk with him the night before and he'd told her that things were fine, just fine, and she'd heard all the questions he wanted to ask but didn't. _What's it like there? Have you talked to Ennis much? How can you stand to be in the same house with that other man? Is Junior okay, or is she changing?_ She'd been circumspect and neutral. Yes, she was having a nice time. Yes, Ennis was being very civil and hospitable. Yes, Junior was just fine.

She sighed, shaking her head as if scolding her reflection. The memory of her conversation with Jack the night before was fresh and sharp. She wondered what the point of all that had been. Neither of them had said anything the other hadn't already known...well, apart from her spilling the fact that she'd seen them kissing all those years ago. She wondered if he'd told Ennis about that. By the ordinary way Ennis had treated her at breakfast she reckoned that he hadn't.

He'd said that they were the same. Was that so?

She dried her hands and headed into the hall with a sigh. She was approaching the kitchen when suddenly the back door banged loudly open and raised voices rang through the house, accompanied by heavy footsteps. "Lizzie!" someone shouted. "Lizzie, come quick!"

Alma heard Liz's running footsteps from the office. She inched forward, keeping to the shadows, and peeked around the doorway into the kitchen.

Jack was being half-carried to the kitchen table by two ranch hands. He was hatless and coatless, and his face was pale and sweaty. His right arm was covered in blood from what looked like a gash to his upper arm. Liz was calm, reaching under the sink for a first-aid kit. Alma watched as she quickly cut Jack's sleeve off. She handed a towel to one of the hands. "Put pressure on it. Damn, that's deep. Where's Ennis?"

"Up at the north paddock."

Liz leaned down and looked into Jack's face. "Are you dizzy?"

He shook his head, his jaw tight. "Nah. Prob'ly need stitches."

"Okay, you sit tight." She looked up at one of the men who'd brought Jack in. "Better tell Ennis. I'm going to call Peter."

"Jus' drive me t'the damned emergency room," Jack said.

"Peter's half a mile away, Jack. He can get here a lot faster than we can get you there."

"I ain't gonna bleed t'death!"

"Probably not, but if you need more than he can do here, we can skip the ER and go right to his office."

Jack fell silent. Alma watched from the shadows, unnoticed by anyone. She saw one of the men with a radio to his mouth, saying Ennis' name. She heard his voice answer. "Better come on down t'the house, boss," the man said.

"Why, what's wrong?" Ennis sounded suspicious already.

"Jack's hurt. Lizzie's called Peter."

"Is he okay?" She could hear a sharp note of alarm enter Ennis' voice.

"He'll live."

A brief pause. "What happened?" He sounded calmer now.

"I'll tell you when y'get here."

Alma heard Ennis' sigh over the radio. "Be right there."

Jack was gritting his teeth. "Get me some whiskey, Lizzie."

"Think that's wise?"

"Don't care."

Liz sighed, then reached into the liquor cabinet by the doorway and pulled out a bottle of Scotch. She poured him a belt and he knocked it back, grimacing. "Fuck, that hurts."

"What the hell happened?"

Jack shook his head. "Ennis'll wanna know too, and I don't wanna tell it twice."

She nodded. Alma heard the sound of hoofbeats outside, then footsteps on the porch stairs. Ennis entered the kitchen, tossing his hat aside. "What the hell's this, now?" he said gruffly, coming to the table to lean over Jack. Jack gingerly drew the blood-soaked towel back and showed Ennis the gash. Ennis hissed, wincing. "Goddamn, rodeo. What'd you go and do to yourself?"

Jack was growing paler by the minute. He opened his mouth to speak, then glanced up at one of the ranch hands. "Tell him, Ike."

Ike sighed. "Jack was helping us fix the wall in Clairie's stall, y'know where it was rottin' out and gettin' loose? He takes a step back and trips over the toolbox and fell against the wall where was some board leanin' with nails stickin' out of 'em."

Ennis's brow darkened. "And who the hell left boards with nails lying about where anybody could cut themselves or step on one? And who left the damned toolbox in the middle of the floor?"

"Calm down," Jack said. "It was an accident."

Ennis grumbled for a moment, then jerked his head towards the door. "All right, you all get back to work. But save the nail he cut himself on, doc might need it." The men made themselves scarce in a big hurry.

Liz checked the towel on Jack's arm. "I'm going to go have a look at that nail, maybe take a picture. Insurance, you know." She left, touching Jack's shoulder as she went.

Alma was feeling increasingly as if she shouldn't be watching this. _I ought to make myself known. Maybe I could help._ But curiosity was winning out over propriety. How did they interact when they were alone? How did Ennis treat Jack when he wasn't worried about appearances? She pressed herself further into the corner, shadowed and invisible, her view of the kitchen unobstructed.

Ennis crouched down by Jack's chair. "You all right?" Alma heard him ask in a softer voice.

Jack nodded. "I'll live."

"You're awful pale. You ain't gonna pass out on me, are ya?"

"Nah." Jack heaved a shaky sigh. "Hurts somethin' awful, though."

Ennis reached up and drew Jack's hand away from the towel, pressing his own to the makeshift bandage. Jack hissed. "Sorry," Ennis said. "Gotta be done."

Jack nodded again. "I know."

She saw Ennis's lip curl in a half-smile. "C'mon, buck up. Ain't you my tough guy?"

"You're the tough one. I'm the fun bit 'o fluff, remember?" Jack said. His voice sounded a little gaspy, but he managed a small smile.

Ennis adjusted the bandage, shaking his head. "You gotta be more careful, darlin'," he said. Alma felt a jolt pass through her at hearing Ennis speak the endearment. "What if that nail had gone into your eye, or your throat?"

"It's just a scratch."

"And it could get infected and cost you this arm or even kill you."

"Doc'll fix me up. Ranchin' ain't no work for pussies. I cain't tiptoe around this place watchin' for every stray nail and you know it. You been hurt, I been hurt, it's just part a the job."

Ennis sighed, looking up at Jack. Alma watched as Ennis raised a hand to Jack's face. She could see the way Jack sighed and relaxed into his touch. She wished she'd never started watching in the first place, but now she was stuck. She couldn't move without giving herself away. Ennis was stroking his thumb over Jack's cheek. "I know it's the job, but..." Ennis sighed. "It scares the hell outta me t'think a somethin' happenin' to you."

"Nothin's gonna happen to me." Jack shuddered visibly. "Damn, where's Pete? My whole damned arm's on fire." Alma silently told Ennis to put some ice on it, for Christ's sake, but he didn't make a move.

Ennis harrumphed. "Aw, quit your bellyachin'. Next you'll want me t'kiss it and make it better."

"Wouldn't say no."

She saw Ennis smile, then he leaned up and kissed Jack on the lips. Alma felt an unpleasant jolt pass through her at the sight of it. She'd never seen Ennis kiss no one else, let alone a _man_, and she'd never been this close to two men kissing before, so it was doubly disconcerting. But after a moment, what was even more disconcerting was the familiarity of it. The way their heads tilted automatically and the way Jack's hand went right to Ennis's neck; it was clear they were used to this. They did this a lot. That, somehow, was the worst part.

_I gotta get outta here,_ she thought. But she could only think of one way to escape her hidden corner.

Alma shut her eyes, steeled herself, and walked right out into the kitchen. "Ennis, you ain't got no sense," she said, walking past him to the freezer. "You got that bleedin' stopped?"

There was a pause. She turned to see Ennis and Jack staring at her with matching expressions of surprise. "Uh...looks like it's slowin' down."

"Well, tie that bandage real tight." She dampened a clean towel and filled it with ice from the freezer. Ennis did as she said. Alma went to Jack's side and pressed the damp, cold compress to the wound. Jack hissed, then let out a long breath.

"Goddamn, that feels good," he gasped.

"Hold that there," she told Ennis. He replaced her hand with his own. Alma took a step back. "That's a powerful painful place to get cut."

"You think?" Jack exclaimed.

The front door opened and Peter came in, carrying his black doctor's bag. "Here I come to save the day," he said blandly, setting his bag on the table and moving to Jack's side. Ennis and Alma backed away to let him examine the wound. "Yowch," he said, making a face. "This is nasty, Jack."

"Oh good, cuz that's what I was goin' for. Nasty."

"You're going to need stitches." Peter drew a syringe and a small ampoule out of his bag. "This is an antibiotic. You've had your tetanus shots, haven't you?"

"I work on a fuckin' ranch, Pete. Course I got my tetanus shots." Jack grimaced as Pete injected him in the upper arm.

"Well, God knows what was crawling all over whatever cut you."

"A nail in a board from Clairie's stall."

Pete blinked. "That's bad. A lot of dirt and animal waste floating around in a stable. I'm taking you back to my office. God help us all if you get a staph infection. I'll have to clean this wound and suture it and it's going to hurt like hell."

"Great."

"C'mon, I'll drive." Jack rose slowly, holding the ice pack to his still-bleeding arm. Ennis moved to follow, but Jack shook his head.

"You stay here, babe."

"I'm comin' with."

"No, you ain't. Won't take more'n half an hour, no reason for you t'come along. And if Pete's gonna pour iodine or God knows what else in this cut and make me cry like a little girl I'd just's soon you not see it."

"I _seen_ you cry like a little girl."

"Then I don't want you to see it _again._ I got an image to maintain, y'know."

Alma watched Ennis' face as he considered, then nodded. "All right, you go on then." He stood with arms crossed and watched as Jack and the doctor left the house, Jack still holding the compress on his wounded arm.

Ennis said nothing, just stood there staring into space. Alma cleared her throat. "He'll be fine," she said.

"I know that!" Ennis exclaimed, a little too quickly. "It's just a little cut on the arm!"

"All right, then! No need t'raise your voice!"

He sagged a little. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"That's fine. Come on, let's get some coffee." She went back to the kitchen, trying to be as casual and matter-of-fact as possible. She didn't want Ennis cottoning on to the fact that she'd been spying.

Ennis sat down at the kitchen table while Alma poured the coffee. She sat across from him and watched him stare at the mug.

The back door opened again and Liz came in, carrying a camera. She paused in the doorway. "Peter take Jack to his office?"

Ennis nodded. "Yeah."

Liz's eyes flicked from him to Alma and back again. "Well...I'll just be in the office, then."

"Okay."

She left them alone. Silence descended. Ennis took a sip of his coffee, then glanced around like he was looking for something. "Where's Junior?"

"She drove up to school. She said they were posting some test results and she wanted to see. Said she'd be back after lunch."

He nodded, turning the mug around and around. She watched him without looking at him, a skill she'd perfected during their marriage. She saw him square his shoulders and clear his throat in preparation to broach an uncomfortable topic. She had to marvel a little at the ease with which she could still read him.

"I hear you and Jack had a...talk last night," he said.

She nodded. "We did."

"And, uh...how'd that go?"

"Ennis, you got things to ask me, you ask me straight out."

He looked up at her. "You knew, didn't you?" Alma blinked, taken aback. "You knew about me 'n him."

"Did he tell you that?"

"No, he didn't tell me nothin' a what you two talked about. I asked, but he said it was between you 'n him." Ennis hesitated. "I had my suspicions. That you knew, I mean." He sighed, no doubt noticing that she wasn't contradicting him. "You did, then?"

Alma nodded. "I knew."

"Since when?"

She shot him a sharp look. "Since I saw you with your tongue down his damned throat in the stairwell that day he come to Riverton in '67."

Ennis sat back, sucking in a breath. "You saw that?"

"I did. You were doin' it right there on my doorstep, for Christ's sake."

He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Goddamn, Alma. I can't..." He met her eyes again. "You really knew? All that time, all them damned fishin' trips?"

"You always came back."

"Why didn't you ever...even in the divorce! You coulda said, and they'd..."

"What could I have said?" she said, hearing her own voice choking up and wishing to hell that time really did heal all wounds. "What would that have made me, Ennis? It's bad enough when it's another woman breaks up a marriage. I'd just have become that woman whose man was having an affair with another man. And what about Junior and Francie? All the kids knowin' their daddy was queer when they was still that young and tender? What would it have been like for them?" She saw the guilt and hurt coming into his eyes. That dark, black part of her soul reveled in it, wanted to pull it out of him and make him swim in it. The stronger part of her pushed it away, but it never would go far enough away that she couldn't see it anymore. She shook her head. "No, I couldn't say nothin'. Anyways, if I'd said you were that way, they might not've let you see the girls." She sighed. "I couldn't do that to them. Or you. Even with everything else."

Ennis' eyes were misting over. "Thank you." She shrugged. "I don't know what else t'say."

A sharp spike of resentment ran up her spine and straightened her back. "If you don't know what else t'say then we got nothin' more t'talk about." She stood up and started past him to the back door.

Ennis caught hold of her wrist as she passed and held her back. She looked down at the top of his head. He was still staring into his coffee mug. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice low and quiet. Alma said nothing. He glanced up at her. "You got no idea how sorry I am."

Alma swallowed past the lump in her throat. "If I got no idea, it's 'cause you ain't never said."

"I'm sayin' now." She saw his jaw clenching, then he looked up at her. "I never meant for none of this to happen, y'know."

She nodded. "I know you didn't."

"I ain't never wanted t'hurt you."

"Well, you did. I hope you don't never have to find out firsthand how much. But it's in the past, Ennis. Took me a long time t'stop hatin' you, but I did stop." He said nothing, but he wasn't letting go of her hand. Alma wavered on the edge of indecision. There was something she'd long wondered on, and this was her chance...but she also wondered if maybe she wasn't better off not knowing.

_The devil you know,_ she thought, and plunged ahead. "Jus' one thing I'd like you t'answer for me, and I want the truth, now."

He nodded and met her eyes again. "Okay."

"Did you _ever_ love me?"

He held her gaze for a long, agonizing moment. She could see in his eyes how much he really didn't want to answer her question. He sighed. "Yes." He lowered his head again. "But not like I love him," he went on, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alma waited for the answer to bring her new pain, fresh resentment, but instead she felt...nothing. She only had to wonder why for a moment until it came to her that she'd already known. She'd just wanted to hear him say so. She nodded. "Thanks for tellin' me the truth."

"God knows I owe you that much."

"Yeah, you do. And there's somethin' else you owe me."

"What's that?"

She pulled her arm free from his grasp and went back to her seat at the kitchen table. She folded her hands before her and looked right into his face. "Tell me about it."

He frowned. "Tell you about what?"

"Everything. You and him. I think I have a right to know. How'd it start, what it was like, how you felt, the lies you told, the things I didn't see. I want to know."

He shifted in his chair. "Well...I guess..." He harrumphed. "It's kinda private."

"Private? You wanna talk about what's _private_ to me, Ennis? The thing with you and him affected our whole lives. Even affected our sex life in a way I don't think you need me to explain t'you. If you owe me an apology then you damn well owe me the truth, and don't you try and weasel out of it. Not this time."

Ennis looked like he was being pulled flat through the eye of a needle, and that suited her fine. "All right, Alma," he said, sounding tired. "You asked for it."

* * *

Jack clutched at the edge of Peter's examination table and gritted his teeth as the doctor sutured the edges of his wound. "Almost done," Peter said.

"It's about fuckin' time." He felt the needle bite and pull twice more, then he heard the snip of a scissors.

"There. All done. See? You didn't cry like a little girl."

"No?"

"No. I'd say that was at least the crying of a teenager, maybe even a college student."

"Hardy fuckin' har."

Peter secured a bandage over the wound. "So, how's this little holiday visit going?" he asked.

Jack shrugged. "So far, so good."

"Can't be too comfortable."

"Ain't as bad as I thought it might be. She's bein' pretty calm, I gotta admit."

"What about you? Are you calm?"

"I do my best." Jack sighed. "I ain't never said this to Ennis, but sometimes I'm a little jealous of her."

"Why?"

"Well...she had him in a way that I never can. Y'know, out in the open, with the whole damned world's approval."

"Yeah, and look where it got them."

"I know what you're sayin', but still. It's hard not t'be bitter that no one would ever say nothin' against that marriage, which was a sham, but plenty of folks got lots t'say against ours, which ain't. Don't seem fair."

"Well, nobody ever said life..."

"Was fair, yeah, I know it ain't, but don't it seem like it oughta be?"

Peter smiled. "There are lots of things that oughta be." He helped Jack into his jacket. "You want a sling for that arm?"

"Nah, I got one at home. It'll be okay, I don't think I'll need it."

"Take the antibiotics for the full course, now. Don't skimp. If you see any redness or pus or feel any heat from the wound, you call me immediately."

"I know the drill." Jack stood waiting, but Peter was just sitting in his little wheelie chair. "Pete? We gonna sit here all day?"

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

Jack shrugged. "Sure."

"Do you think Liz would marry me?"

Jack grinned. "Don'tcha think you oughta be askin' her that?"

"I don't know. I'm...undecided."

"Well, you only been datin' her six months. That'd be enough for some folks, but I don't think you or Liz are among 'em. You know she rushed into marryin' Charlie. I'm guessin' it made her skittish."

"You don't know the half of it." Peter sighed. "I made a very tentative suggestion that sometime she _might_ consider moving in with me, and she didn't take it very well at all."

"Then why you even thinkin' of proposin' if you know how it'd go down?"

"I just keep thinking maybe it'd be different if I had a ring, you know..."

"Well, with my ex-wife, jewelry did solve a lot of problems. Liz ain't like that, though."

"No, she isn't."

"Why you in such a goddamned rush, anyway?"

"I don't know! I just feel like nothing's official, like I don't have any real position or standing in her life."

"You got a position in her life, trust me."

"I'm too old to be a boyfriend."

"We'll think up another word, then. How about..." Jack thought for a moment. "Non-cohabiting life partner?"

Peter made a face. "That sounds like a category on a tax return."

"Pete, I'm a gay man. I'm an expert at thinking up euphemisms for a non-traditional relationship. Let's see...how about 'romantic cooperative participant?'"

Peter rolled his eyes. "You're not helping."

"Relationship co-sponsor?"

"I'm not listening to you."

Jack followed Peter out of the clinic. "But I'm jus' gettin' warmed up! Wait, I got it! Pre-matrimonial co-sleeper!"

* * *

Ennis was exhausted. He couldn't remember the last time he'd talked so long in one sitting, and to such a non-responsive audience. Alma had sat quietly while he told her the story of him and Jack. She knew the bare outlines, he was sure...Brokeback Mountain, 1963, postcards, fishing trips. But the bare outlines wasn't what she wanted to know. No, she wanted to know the goddamned _truth._ She wanted to know who started it, how long it took, if he felt guilty, if he'd been happy, if he'd considered not marrying her, if he'd thought about Jack in the four years they'd been separated.

He tried to be honest. He glossed over what he knew she didn't really want to know. He tried to put into words what he could barely hold in his own head. He hoped she got the picture from his inadequate description.

"Why'd you call him?" Alma asked, when he'd finished…well, not finished so much as run out of steam and things to tell.

"When?"

"When we got divorced. You said you never called him."

"No, never did. Jus' that one time."

"Why?"

Ennis shrugged. "I don't rightly know."

"D'you think you were hopin' he might show up?"

"I said I _don't know,_" he groaned, weary of all this introspection. "Does it matter?"

She shrugged. "I guess not. Jus' seems t'me that maybe you were tryin' to make him do the work."

He frowned. "What?"

"Well, if you called t'tell him you and I were divorced, didn't you think he might jump in his truck and hightail it north? I barely know the guy and even I can see that's somethin' he'd do."

"Yeah, it sure is."

"Maybe you were thinkin' you 'n him might have a real shot, but you were too chickenshit t'say so, so you called him up figurin' he'd do the heavy liftin' of comin' t'see you and draggin' your ass into it."

Ennis snorted. "Damn, that don't paint me in much of a light."

"If the shoe fits." Alma had her forehead in her hand like her head was too heavy with all this new information for her neck to hold up. "Jesus Christ, Ennis," she murmured. "I don't know what t'say to all this."

"You asked."

"I know," she said, irritably. He watched her working it out in her head. She dropped her hand to the table and looked at him again. "What was so goddamned special about him, anyway?" she asked, a plaintive note creeping into the question. Ennis wondered if this was the real question she'd been wanting to ask. "We were already engaged, Ennis! What was it about Jack Twist that turned you from me, from everything?"

"You ask me that like you think I know the answer," Ennis said.

"You've sure had enough time to think on it."

Ennis looked at her face, a face he'd known so young and fresh, etched now with faint worry-lines, some of which could likely be laid at his doorstep. He sighed. "Yeah, I've had enough time."

"Can you tell me? Or is it one of those things cain't be said?"

He leaned forward, surprised to find himself eager to make her understand. Maybe if she understood, all this would be easier. "He saw me," Ennis said, quietly. He wasn't sure he could really verbalize what he meant. "That was it. He really _saw_ me."

"I saw you."

He shook his head. "You saw a man who'd work a job and give you babies and be your husband. You ain't never seen me, Alma. You just saw how I'd give you an identity."

He saw her face harden. "Awful fancy talk for a man never finished high school."

"That don't make me stupid. Or mean I cain't learn."

She crossed her arms over her chest and thought for a moment. "Maybe you're right. If that's what I saw, what'd he see?"

Ennis leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Somebody with insides. And he asked me about them insides. Pretty soon he knew what was in here," he said, tapping his forehead, "and he was the only one who ever did."

She nodded, considering. "Is that really all there was to it?"

"More or less."

"So it's my fault for not seein' some damned deep wells of meanin' in you or somethin'?"

"It ain't your goddamned fault, Alma. And maybe in the end there ain't no reason, it just was and that's that, and I'm tired of talkin' about it. Ain't you heard enough?"

She nodded. "I guess I have."

A heavy silence fell in the kitchen. Ennis wanted to feel that something was resolved, that anything was improved, but he couldn't be sure. At least his life was known to her now; that was something.

After a few long moments, he spoke again. "Alma…I sure wish you and Jack could be a little more friendly."

"That's an awful lot to ask of me."

"Maybe, but I still wish for it." He stared at the top of her lowered head. "He's a good man, you know," he said, quietly. "I still got a hope you could see that."

"Junior sure seems to."

"Junior sees good in everybody. But you're right, she loves him." Ennis sat up straighter and waved a hand, dismissing the topic. "Y'know what? Forget it. It don't matter what you think of him, or if you're friends. I already got more'n I ever expected with Junior, I cain't ask for no more. You feel however you're gonna feel and do what you like, Alma. I'm just glad we can be civil with each other."

Alma met his eyes. "I'm glad of that, too." She squared her shoulders. "And I'm glad we, uh…had this talk. I know you musta hated every minute."

"I'm a bit easier talkin' than I used t'be."

"That's for sure." She smiled, a little sadly, then got up. "Let's get lunch together. Junior'll be back soon, and Jack too."

Ennis watched her move purposefully around the large kitchen, the ghosts of her form in the cramped little apartments they'd lived in floating before his sight, Junior tugging at her skirt, wanting to be picked up. The life he'd had, lost, and then left behind for this new one.


	9. Chapter 9

Liz came into the living room just in time to see Jack return, his bare arm bandaged over the cut. Ennis, who'd been milling around the house waiting, met him at the door. They exchanged a quick kiss and a few muttered words that Liz couldn't make out. "Do you have any prescriptions?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jack said, holding out a piece of paper. "Antibiotics, but only if I get feverish. Pete said I'd probably be fine."

"Well, I'll hold on to this anyway," she said, tacking it to the corkboard in the kitchen. "How often should we change your dressing?"

"Pete said twice a day. I'm good until tonight."

She nodded. "Okay, well, I'll bring the supplies up from downstairs and Ennis can do it." She glanced at Ennis. "Right?"

"Whatever you say, boss."

The front door opened again and Junior came in. "Dad, I got a B+ on that math test I was so…" She stopped short when she saw Jack's arm. "What happened?"

"It's nothin', honey," Jack said. "Just cut myself on a nail."

"Oh no!" she said, holding onto his arm and turning it this way and that, as if she could see straight through the bandage. "Stitches?"

"Yep. Twenty-five."

"Jack! You gotta be more careful!"

Jack glanced at Ennis. "Ain't no mystery whose daughter _she_ is, is there?"

Alma came out of the kitchen, smiling to see Junior back. "Lunch's ready," she said, holding out her arm for Junior. "How'd you do on that test, honey?" she said, quietly. Jack and Ennis followed, Ennis peering at Jack's bandage and murmuring something about pulling out all the hair on Jack's arm. Liz smiled, remembering her impression of just a few nights before…Alma an outsider in the cozy family circle. That impression was gone. They _all_ seemed like a family now. One that might even include herself.

* * *

Alma felt like a blind woman after the scales had fallen from her eyes. Things she'd suspected, she now knew for sure. Things she'd tried not to imagine, she'd now heard told right from Ennis's lips.

On the one hand, the anger she'd fought for so long felt so much closer to the surface now, having heard it all. On the other hand, she felt much freer, like it was okay to be feeling whatever she was feeling now that she and Ennis had put it out there in the open between them as they never had before.

Now she sat at this lunch table and she felt something had shifted. She didn't feel like a poor relation anymore, or like the pathetic, deceived doormat of a wife she'd often felt like in the past. She felt like she was on equal footing with them, somehow. She knew how it had all happened. There was no more supposition, no more innuendo, it was all right there. "Ennis?" she said, in a conversational lull.

"What?"

"Thursday's my last day here. I'd like to cook a dinner for everyone. Kind of a pretend pre-Christmas, seein's I won't be here for proper Christmas."

Everyone went quiet. She saw Ennis glance at Jack, then he turned back to her. "Well, that's real nice 'o you, Alma. I think we'd all enjoy that."

"I'd like Marianne to come, too, if you think she would."

"I'm sure she'd like to. Ain't often she gets to eat a meal she ain't cooked."

"And Pete, of course, if he can."

Liz smiled. "Peter's not one to turn down a home-cooked dinner."

She nodded, glad to have that over with. "Well. That's settled, then." She steeled herself and drew her shoulders back. "Jack?"

He froze, spoon halfway to his mouth, and looked up at her. "Yeah?"

"Would you mind drivin' me into town so's I can pick up the groceries I'll need?"

She sat as calmly as she could while the other four shot little glances at each other. Jack put down his spoon and swallowed hard. "Be glad to," he said, his eyes shifting right and left.

"Good. Tomorrow'd be fine. I'd best see what's in the pantry first." She forced a smile. "You all usually have turkey on Christmas?"

Ennis nodded. "Usually."

"How's about I make ham, then? Somethin' different."

Junior, who'd been quiet through most of this, nodded eagerly. "That sounds good, Mamma." She grinned. "Will you make them sweet potatoes with the marshmallows? We never have 'em like that."

Alma's smile widened. "I sure will, darlin'. Any other requests?"

Ennis cleared his throat. "D'you, uh…still make that stuffin' with the onions 'n mushrooms?" He was keeping his head down, giving all his attention to his soup like he was embarrassed to be asking.

For just a moment, Alma felt something rising in her throat. She blinked and she was back in Riverton, the girls just babies, she and Ennis struggling by as best they could, and all she could do for him was try and make things he liked for dinner, and all he could do for her was tell her it tasted good. _God, such a long time ago, and so much's changed since,_ she thought. She swallowed and nodded. "I sure do, Ennis."

* * *

Ennis sat down next to Jack on the bed, hitching one knee up behind Jack's hips. He set the clean bandage and some gauze on the bedspread. "You ready?"

"Just do it."

"I cain't go fast, it might tear off a clot and start you bleedin'."

"I know the drill."

Ennis peeled the adhesive tape away from Jack's bandage, then slowly rolled the gauze away. Jack sucked in a breath and bit his lip as the bloody gauze stuck to the wound. Ennis pressed on it with a damp cloth to loosen things up and kept pulling. "Sorry, bud," he muttered. The gauze cleared the stitched gash and Ennis ripped the rest of it away in one quick motion. He bent and examined the wound. "Well, it don't look like it's infectin'. Skin around it ain't red or nothin'. How you feel?"

"Fine. Bit sore is all."

Ennis dabbed at the gash with some antibacterial solution and cleaned away some clotted blood from the edges. "Damn, Pete does nice neat stitches," he said, fixing the new bandage in place with fresh tape.

"Still have a scar, though." Jack chuckled. "Matches the one on my other arm, didja notice?"

"At least it's nice 'n symmetrical now." Ennis hesitated, his hand falling to his lap.

Jack glanced over his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Ennis shrugged, facing once again the insurmountable task of putting into words something ill-defined that he was feeling. He'd gotten better at it over the years but God knew it still felt like an uphill slog every damned time. "I jus'…" He reached out and ran one hand across Jack's shoulders and back again, his warm skin feeling smooth and firm under Ennis's fingers. "It's a damned shame."

"What is?" Jack said, sounding a little distracted, perhaps by Ennis's hand stroking him.

"You're jus' so…" Ennis hesitated again, plumbing the depths of his brain for a word that wouldn't sound ridiculous. Ridiculous or not, there was only one that applied. "Beautiful." Jack looked back over his shoulder at him, blinking in surprise. "I know, I know," Ennis said, cutting him off before he could say anything. "Ain't no kinda word for a man, but I cain't think a no better one, all right?" He sighed, then pulled himself around Jack's hips so he was sitting more fully behind him. He bent and kissed Jack's shoulder, then let his cheek rest against it. "I jus' hate it that anything's ever got t'mark your skin or cut you, or hurt you, or make you any different than how God made you." He slipped his arms around Jack's waist from behind and hugged him.

"Damn," Jack murmured, covering Ennis's arms with his own. "You're breakin' my heart, cowboy."

"Shut up."

"You know I love it when you get all mushy 'n heartfelt."

"Glad I could help."

Jack turned in Ennis's arms and pushed him back onto the bed, following him and laying him out so he could look down into his face. "Anyhow, it's too late. I ain't been the way God made me for a long fuckin' time, 'cause you done branded me when I was nineteen years old, and I got scars from all them times you left me behind that go a fair bit deeper than this here nail gash. So I ain't gonna get all worked up over some stitches. Bein' here with you's worth a coupla ugly bits."

"Ain't you a sweet-talker. Might think you was tryin' t'get lucky."

"Is it workin?"

"C'mere and I'll show you."

* * *

"Ennis?" Jack said, wondering if he was awake. After some very enthusiastic sex during which the Lord's name was _definitely_ taken in vain, repeatedly, Ennis had dozed right off while Jack had just laid here, staring at the ceiling. "Ennis?" he repeated.

"Hrngh?"

"You awake?"

Ennis grunted and rolled to his back. "No. I'm asleep. Shut up."

"I cain't sleep."

"What, you want me t'sing you a fuckin' song?"

"I didn't say I wanted t'have _nightmares._"

"Hardy fuckin' har, asshole." He started to turn back to his side, but Jack reached out and pulled him back. "What is it? Jack, I'm tired."

"Why the hell does Alma want _me_ to drive her to town tomorrow?"

Even in the dark, Jack could still see Ennis rolling his eyes. "How the hell should I know? She needs a ride, I guess."

"No, that ain't it and you know it. She asked _me_, real specific. Not you or Junior or Liz, but me and nobody else."

"Maybe she's gonna try and put the moves on you. Turnabout's fair play 'n all."

"You gonna take me serious or are you gonna crack fuckin' jokes?"

Ennis sighed. "I'm sorry, I'll be serious. But what're you worried about? Thought the two 'o you were bosom buddies 'n all after your big talk."

"I wouldn't go that far."

Ennis said nothing for a moment. "Well…I might have an idea why she might want t'get you alone."

"What?"

"When you was at Pete's, she 'n I had…a long talk. The one we ain't been having these seven years, the one I think she came here t'have."

Jack was quiet for a few beats. "Whyn't you tell me before?" he asked, softly.

"I was goin' to. It's jus'…well, all that shit between me 'n her, I ain't exactly proud of it or how I acted, and I think maybe it oughta stay in the past where it belongs."

"What'd you tell her? What'd she want t'know?"

"She wanted t'know it all. The whole story. How it started, how it kept goin', how I felt about it, how I felt about her, all of it."

"And you told her?"

"Best I could."

"I guess…was some stuff she didn't know." Jack shut his eyes. "Some stuff might make her see me a bit different. For the worse, probably."

"Ain't for me t'say." Jack listened to Ennis take one breath, then two, then three. He'd taken twenty before he spoke again. "She asked me if I ever loved her."

Jack turned his head and looked at his man's profile as he stared at the ceiling. "And what'd you say?"

"Told her the truth."

Jack was damn near afraid to ask. "Which is?"

Ennis sighed. "Yeah, I loved her." He turned and met Jack's eyes in the dimness. "But not like I love you."

Jack felt a tiny knot of tension leave him. "Oh. Good."

"Which you already knew damned well, you insecure little shit."

"Bears repeatin', don't you think?"

Ennis smirked. "Y'know what else bears repeatin'?" He reached out and grabbed Jack around the hips and yanked him close. "Me gettin' some a this," he growled, sliding one hand down to Jack's ass.

"That ain't fair. What about _me_ gettin' some a _you_?"

"You go ahead and take what you think you can get, and I'll do the same."

"What's that, some kinda contest?"

"Best kind. Everybody wins."

* * *

Jack helped Alma into the truck, then went around to the driver's side and got in. "Got your list, there?" he said, trying to sound calm and casual. Just a trip to the store, move along, nothing to see here.

"I got it," she said evenly, patting her purse.

"Okay, then." He put the truck in gear and headed out to the road, turning towards town. He'd take Alma to the big grocery store outside of town, not the smaller neighborhood store where they usually went when they ran out of milk. Frankly, Marianne did most of their grocery shopping, so this wasn't exactly his line of work.

Alma said nothing as they headed east. Jack waited for her to broach a subject, any subject, but she just sat there looking out at the scenery. His mouth itched for a cigarette, even though he'd quit years before. His foot tapped against the inside of the door, his fingers drummed on the steering wheel.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled off the road onto the gravel shoulder, put the parking brake on and turned to face her. "Okay, Alma. You got somethin' t'say? Go on ahead, it's just you 'n me now."

She blinked at him. "What are you on about, now?"

"Why'd you ask me t'take you t'town? Junior or Ennis or Liz coulda done it. I'd've thought you wouldn't wanna have no more t'do with me than you had to, so best's I can figure you wanted t'get me alone somewheres, maybe so's you could scream at me or somethin'. Well here I am, so go on ahead."

She sighed, her lips pressing together until they damn near disappered. "All right, maybe I did want t'talk to you."

"I'd hoped we'd had our talk the other night."

"Well, I learned a few things since then."

"Ennis told me you 'n him had a talk."

"He told you…" she began, her eyes widening in surprise. She caught herself, then sniffed. "Yeah, I s'pose he would tell you. Tells you everything, don't he?"

"I sure hope so."

Alma was looking down at her gloved hands now, her head shaking back and forth slightly, as if she were bemused by the absurdity of it all. "I always thought it musta been you but I never knew for sure. Was you sent the postcard, after all. But now I heard it from his own lips, and I do know for sure."

"What's this, now?"

She turned to him, and her calm expression had splintered. "It was _all you._ He never woulda done nothin' with you but for your startin' it. He'd've left you the hell alone, come home t'me and we'd've been fine. There'd've been no postcard and no you and no fishin' trips. You done this, Jack. All of it."

"You think so, do you? Well, I don't know much, but I do know that neither you nor me nor even Ennis himself knows for sure what woulda happened if I hadn't. And if he'd never met me I doubt whether you 'n him woulda lived happily ever after, not knowin' him and knowin' you."

"You don't know nothin' about me."

"I know more'n you think. And before you go buildin' up some image of Ennis as the victim of my perverted seductions, you oughta know that when I came t'visit after sendin' that postcard, I had no idea of anythin' happenin' with us. I had hopes, I ain't gonna lie, but I wasn't gonna make no moves on him. The minute he was down them stairs he was on me like white on rice. I ain't never been so surprised in all my life. So you go ahead 'n blame me for Brokeback if you want, but you want somebody t'blame for it takin' up again you gotta go with him."

"He wouldn't've never had that chance if it weren't for Brokeback."

"A lot a things changed up on that mountain. But you weren't there. I was. He was lookin' for somethin', and it wasn't money and it wasn't you. He didn't know what he needed but it was me he found."

"Well. Ain't that sweet," she said, her words flat.

"No, it ain't, it's a hard fuckin' fact a life and I'll tell you what, I've had just about enough a you actin' like it shattered your whole damned universe."

"Because _it did!_" she cried.

"Seven fuckin' years ago." Jack shook his head and put the truck back in gear. "Christ almighty. You got your husband and your kids and a real nice life. Fuckin' get over it, already."

He pulled back onto the road and drove off, stamping on the gas pedal harder than he meant to, the transmission groaning in protest. They drove along in silence for a few miles. "You're right," Alma finally said.

"About what?"

"That I oughta get over it."

"Well, halle-fuckin'-lujah."

"It ain't so easy, y'know."

"You don't gotta tell me. I spent thirteen years tryin' and failin' to get over it." He chuckled, half to himself. "Guess it's lucky for me I never could do it."

"And it's unlucky for me that I couldn't."

He looked at her. "Maybe now you can."

She nodded. "Yeah."

They didn't speak again until they arrived at the supermarket. They went inside and went about Alma's shopping in silence, talking only of the task at hand.

It wasn't until they were back in the truck, on the way back, that Alma broke the silence. "I know you think I hate you."

"Don'tcha?"

She sighed. "I don't hardly know no more. I want to. It just all makes me so tired."

"Yeah."

A few beats passed in quiet. "What's the point, anyway?" she said. "I ain't like I even want him back, or could take him if I did. I don't know why I still get on so."

"You cain't help how you feel. Even if it is fucked up," he added, half under his breath.

"Fucked up, he says," Alma grumbled. "Fucked up is two men. Ain't natural."

"Feels natural t'me."

"Then you ain't natural, neither."

"Guess not."

She crossed her arms over her chest and exhaled, as if steeling herself for something. "But I guess it don't matter what I think. I can…" She sighed, fidgeting a little. "I can see that you love each other." Jack looked at her, amazed. "Keep yer eyes on the road. Yeah, I know. I can admit what I see."

"You jus' said it ain't natural."

"It ain't. Polyester ain't natural neither, don't mean it ain't real."

Jack shook his head. "I don't know what t'say, Alma."

"Don't say nothin'. I ain't interested in discussin' the matter. You are what you are, and Ennis is what he is, and it's clear you two mean t'go about your lives how you wish and never mind that the rest of us gotta see it and know it's there."

"Gee, just when I was startin' t'think you was developin' some tolerance."

"I got tolerance. I tolerate it 'cause I ain't got no choice. But that ain't good enough, is it? No, you want _acceptance._ That I cain't give you. But I imagine you'll survive without it," she said, half-smirking.

"I'll try." Jack pulled into the driveway. He parked the truck and turned to face her. "Are we about done clearin' the air between us? Cause I don't know if I can take another one a these little heart-to-heart chats we been havin'."

"We're done." She fixed him with a stern look. "And what you done t'me and Ennis…that's done, too. It's all done and in the past."

"Then for God's sake let's bury it there."

She nodded. "For all our sakes."

Jack helped her carry the groceries into the kitchen and left here there, putting things away, to go find Ennis. He had a sudden urge to see him.

He found him in the stable, brushing Clairie. "Hey, bud," Ennis said as he entered the stall. "Get the groceries okay?"

"Yup."

"What'd Alma want?"

Jack shrugged. "Jus' needed another pair 'o hands with the groceries."

Ennis nodded, watching him carefully. "Uh-huh. Okay, then."

Jack stepped close and slid his arms around Ennis's waist beneath his barn jacket. Ennis turned towards him, smiling. "What's this, then?"

"My hands are cold."

"Shoulda worn your gloves, dumbass."

Jack held his gaze. "Tell me it's better."

"What's better?"

"This. Us. All of it. Tell me it's better than it was with her."

Ennis raised a hand to Jack's neck, his thumb stroking Jack's jawline. "Better ain't the word, darlin'," he said quietly.


	10. Chapter 10

The house was full of the good smells of Alma's cooking. She was baking pumpkin bread for this afternoon's pre-Christmas dinner, and the ham was slowly roasting in its maple-honey glaze. There was a kettle of cider bubbling on the stove, sending the aromas of cinnamon and apples into the air.

Junior was in the kitchen with her mother. Liz had gone Christmas shopping; she was expected back by three o'clock Marianne, sadly, had been unable to attend. She and her family had planned a trip to Boston to visit some cousins.

Since everything was under control, Jack and Ennis were enjoying a bit of a spontaneous late-morning makeout. Slow and easy, sprawled carelessly on the bed, fully clothed and unhurried. Jack was half on top, Ennis's right knee hooked over his left thigh, trapping it there between Ennis's legs. Jack couldn't do much with his hands since Ennis was on his back, but Ennis's sure were busy. They wandered over his back and shoulders, sometimes seizing handfuls of his hair, sometimes cupping his ass, sometimes sliding up his sides like they didn't want to leave a single inch unexplored.

Jack nuzzled his face into Ennis's neck, his lips picking up the pulse of Ennis's heartbeat. He slid one hand up to Ennis's cheek; he turned his face into Jack's palm and kissed it. Ennis sighed. "Y'know, when I was with Alma, I never used to get the point a neckin'," he said. "I mean, why bother if you ain't gonna fuck?"

"You sayin' you get the point now?"

"Yep. It's kinda like a roller coaster."

Jack chuckled. "I didn't think I was _that_ good a kisser."

"Ain't what I meant," Ennis said, making a face at him. "I never used t'get the point a them, neither. Why go on some ride that only brings you 'round to where you started? Till I rode one. Turns out the point ain't where you end up, it's what goes on while you're gettin' there." He arched his neck and kissed Jack again. "So even if we don't get nowhere, it's still worth the trip." He pulled Jack down to him and they picked up where they'd left off, going on for another few moments of slow kisses, long and deep, trying to see how close they could get and how tight they could hold each other.

Jack drew back and raised himself up a little, propping his head on his hand so he could look down into Ennis's face, smooth and uncreased, his half-lidded eyes full of unshuttered feeling. "My Ennis," he whispered, half to himself, tracing one finger down Ennis's jawline.

Ennis's mouth curled in a tentative half-smile. "Hmph," he muttered. "I like bein' yours," he said. His tone was gruff and offhand, like the admission was embarrassing.

Jack's eyes roamed all over Ennis's face. "You fuckin' amaze me, you know that?"

"Why's that?"

"Just thinkin' about what you was like when we met. You was wound tighter'n piano wire and closed off like Fort Knox." Ennis grunted, his eyes on their intertwined fingers where they rested on his chest. "Didn't even wanna give me your damned last name. That first day all I could think was goddamn, this fella's like a fuckin' glacier and about as much fun."

Ennis grunted again. "Well, I was thinkin' you was like a puppy, couldn't wait t'make friends and slobber all over everythin'."

Jack laughed. "Maybe so. But you changed so much since then. I look at you now and I cain't hardly believe it's the same man. Lookin' up at me like that, and I can read everythin' you're thinkin' and feelin' on your face. You ain't wound tight and shut off no more."

"I ain't changed. Might seem so. This was me all the time. I was jus'…was like I was in a straitjacket. Buckled it so tight, couldn't hardly move. Thing about them straitjackets is they might not give you much freedom, but you sure do feel safe, especially from yourself." Ennis hesitated. "I took it off that summer, and look what happened. Scared me t'death, so much so's I had to put it right back on again. And it got tighter 'n tighter every year till all that safety started chokin' the life outta me."

Jack nodded, impressed. "Damn, you are gettin' wise about yourself in your old age, ain't you?"

"Cain't take credit. Was Junior first said it about the straitjacket. Struck me as dead-on."

"Me, too."

Ennis looked up into his eyes then, and Jack's breath caught in his throat at the emotion he saw there, more than was normal even in these intimate circumstances. "I love you, Jack," Ennis said with sudden, almost urgent, sincerity. "More'n I'll ever be able t'tell you."

Jack nodded, a little taken aback by Ennis's insistence. It wasn't like him to be so…forthright. "I know," he said. "Why the urge to declare all of a sudden?"

"Cause that's the key."

"What key?"

"The key that opens the straitjacket."

* * *

Alma laid out her pre-Christmas dinner in the dining room, leading to the usual jokes about how seldom it was used. When Liz opened the door for Peter, she smiled to see him actually wearing a jacket. Without it being discussed, everyone seemed to have independently decided to dress up for the occasion. "My, aren't you fancy?" she said, drawing him inside. 

"So are you," he said, smiling down at her. Liz had put on a new dark-green velvet holiday dress. It wasn't her usual style, but the longer she lived here, the more of what had been her "usual" style receded into obscurity. Most days she wore jeans and a flannel, invariably topped off with her gigantic gray worsted cardigan (known around the house as "Lizzie's Coat"), which probably could have kept her warm and dry during a monsoon. The days of her adherence to the orders doled out by Vogue magazine were long gone. "You look beautiful," he said quietly, bending to kiss her cheek. She felt herself blush and wondered again what had become of her formerly worldly-wise, cynical self.

"Howdy, Pete," Jack said, appearing in the living room to shake his hand. "Merry Christmas."

"To you too, Jack," Peter said, handing Jack a bottle of wine. "You clean up all right."

Jack looked down at himself. He was wearing gray corduroys and a blue turtleneck that made his eyes jump out in a way that Liz was trying to pretend she didn't notice. "Isn't it amazing what a little bleach and a wire-bristled brush can do? C'mon, let's get you a drink. Alma made egg nog! Real, not from a carton!"

Liz grinned as Peter was led away. The tree, which they'd put up a week before, bathed the whole living room in a warm, multicolored glow. Gifts were piled beneath it; everyone had set aside one gift to be opened here with Alma, so it wouldn't feel so one-sided. She got a little shiver of anticipation to think of Jack and Ennis's gift from her and Junior, which would wait until their proper family Christmas. It was safely stashed away underneath her bed until then.

"Merry Christmas, city gal," Ennis said, coming up beside her and handing her a cup of egg nog. It was rich and sweet and tasted slightly of brandy. It was delicious.

"Merry Christmas, Ennis," she said, smiling up at him. "You know, you and Jack ought to dress up more often. It suits you." Ennis was wearing khakis and a red sweater that warmed him up considerably.

Ennis shrugged. "We dress up for church."

"You dressing up for church means finding jeans without mud on the cuffs."

He laughed. "I guess we're just country boys at heart."

Liz could hear Junior's voice in the kitchen, and Alma's laughter. "I know how nervous you were about this visit, but it seems to have gone pretty well."

Ennis nodded. "Better'n I could've hoped for. Lots of things that needed sayin' got said." He hesitated. "She's stronger than I gave her credit for."

"You sound sad about that."

"No, it's just…" He sighed. "Ever wish you could split yourself in two?"

"You still wish things could have worked out for you and Alma?"

"I'm just sorry she ever got hurt."

"People get hurt, Ennis. It's the way of things."

He smirked. "You're startin' ta sound like a right New England philosophizer there, Lizzie."

"Ayuh," she said, deliberately curling the regional affirmation with an exaggerated Vermont twang.

* * *

Alma's dinner was delicious, and Ennis felt like he was being karmically repaid for all the years of hardship and pain he and Alma had both endured, for their different reasons. The six of them sat around the big dining-room table, groaning with food, and plied themselves liberally with wine and the homemade egg nog. "Alma, this ham is not of this world," Liz said around a mouthful. 

"Thanks," Alma said, looking pleased at the praise. "It's my mamma's recipe."

Jack got up and returned with another bottle of wine. "Who needs a refill?"

"Me!" Junior exclaimed.

Ennis gave her The Eyebrow. "You had enough, young lady."

"But Daddy, I feel so…warm 'n mellow."

"And that means you done had enough."

"I sure hope no one needs urgent medical attention tonight," Peter said, his voice slightly blurry, as he held up his wineglass.

"You're not on call, are you?" Liz said, mouth still full of ham, eyes wide in alarm.

"No. I was just trying to be funny. And failing, apparently."

Jack was still refilling glasses, his cheeks flushed with equal parts alcohol and warmth from the fire burning in the hearth. "And a top-off for the best-lookin' man at the table," he said. Ennis rolled his eyes, face reddening, as Jack poured the last of the bottle into his wineglass.

"Let's have a toast," Junior said.

"Hear, hear!" Jack said.

"I ain't said what I'm toasting yet!"

"Oh, sorry."

Junior raised her glass. "To family holidays."

Everyone nodded, raising their own glasses and echoing the statement. "And the ones who couldn't be here to share them with us," Ennis added.

Liz was sure Ennis had meant to refer to Francine, not realizing that his statement could have a more tragic interpretation. Jack's face went slack and he went very still, his wineglass hovering in midair before he set it down. Everyone fell quiet. Ennis swallowed, looking stricken. Jack just sat there staring down at his hands for a moment, then he picked up his glass again and held it up. "To my son," he said, his voice hoarse.

"To Bobby," Ennis said, nodding. As the toast was passed around, Ennis put one arm around Jack's shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. Liz saw Ennis murmur something in his ear that she couldn't make out, but by Jack's reaction was probably an apology. Jack sighed and let his head rest against Ennis's for a moment, then straightened up and pulled himself together. Liz glanced at Alma. She was watching them, but she didn't look upset or angry. Just sad.

* * *

The gift-opening was a melee of wrapping paper and ribbons, punctuated by exclamations and thank-you's tossed across the living room. Alma looked a bit overwhelmed to have received gifts from everyone. She sat quietly, watching everyone else open their gifts, opening her own only when urged to do so. 

A new backpack for Junior. A pair of leather riding gloves for Ennis. A cookbook from the local women's club for Alma. The gifts were revealed and discussed, one after another. Alma's knitting skill was evident in many of her gifts. Liz received a beautiful hat with matching mittens and scarf made from soft, fuzzy white yarn with silver sparkles in it. Junior got a colorful knitted poncho. Peter received the wool toboggan that Alma had been knitting during her visit.

Liz saw Alma's jaw tighten a little as she came to her next gift, which Liz knew was from Jack. He watched her closely as she opened the small, flat package. She lifted the lid and stared down at the contents. She didn't react. Everyone's attention was gradually drawn to her as she sat, still and silent.

Finally, she spoke without looking at him. "Where'd you get this?" she murmured.

"Got it from the man who took it," Jack said.

Ennis held out his hand, and Alma handed over what Liz could now see was a framed photograph. Ennis's jaw dropped a little as he looked at it; Alma was swiping at her eyes. "Aw, Jack," Ennis said. He looked at Jack, that little half-smile on his face but his eyes full to bursting. Ennis turned the picture so everyone could see. It was clearly a professional photo. It showed Junior and Francine, very small, sitting together on the back of a horse. Alma was standing near the horse's flanks, her hands on Junior's waist. Ennis was at the horse's head, holding the reins, looking up at his daughters. All four of them looked windblown and sun-kissed, happy and laughing. Junior, sitting on the floor, scooted a little closer to look. "You weren't more'n four here," Ennis said to her. "I took you out to the ridin' stables and my, didn't Francie kick up a fuss when I wouldn't put her up there with you. Finally got you both up there. Was this photographer from the paper there takin' shots for a story 'bout the owner a them stables. He saw us and asked if he could take this picture. It ran in the paper and we always meant to get a copy, but never did." He looked at Jack. "How'd you know about this?"

Jack shrugged. "You told me about it."

"When?"

"I dunno. Think it was the summer we was up at Big Fork."

"Jack, that was ten fuckin' years ago! You remembered this?"

"I had to remember everythin' about those times, Ennis. Didn't have but a few weeks a year with you t'live on." He held Ennis's eyes for a few long, meaningful moments, then turned back to Alma. "I got it for Ennis, but then it struck me you might like t'have it too, so I had a copy made."

Alma shook her head. "This is…thank you," she said, meeting his eyes. "We never had a camera when the girls was young, I hardly got any pictures of them, or of us."

Jack smiled. "Well, now you got that one."

"Can I have a copy of that?" Junior asked.

Jack cleared his throat. "Uh…check under the tree next week, honey. You too, Ennis," he said.

Ennis still looked like he couldn't believe it. "And you tracked this down, just offa what I told you about it."

"Never forgot how you sounded when you talked about it," Jack said. "Like it was one a them moments when everythin's perfect, the kind that come 'n go in a breath. You're lucky, you got one on film here. You oughta have it t'look at."

Ennis passed the photo to Alma, then turned back to Jack. He looked like he wanted to kiss him, but all he did was take his hand. "Thank you, darlin'," she heard him whisper.

"You're welcome," Jack said, squeezing Ennis's fingers.

The moment settled over them for a few beats of silence, and then the gift-opening resumed. Alma exclaimed over the CCV sweatshirt from Junior, Jack laughed over the box of socks he got from Ennis. "So's you c'n quit stealin' mine," Ennis explained, smirking.

The last gift opened was Alma's to Ennis. It was a utility knife with several blades and an ebony handle. A neutral gift, but one that Ennis could use. He made polite thanks, and everyone set to cleaning up the papers and ribbons, no one remarking on the fact that Jack was the only person who had not received a gift from Alma. Jack didn't look like he'd noticed, although he surely had, but Alma seemed uncomfortable. She was avoiding his eyes while being a little over-solicitous to him. Liz imagined that after the gift Jack had given her, Alma would be feeling a little guilty about having passed him over.

Peter made his goodbyes, apologizing for his early departure, but he had patients to see in the morning. Liz followed him onto the front porch. "Thanks for coming over," she said. "I know Alma appreciated it. I think she wanted to make a gesture."

He nodded. "She seems a lot more peaceful with everything than she was a few days ago."

"Yes, I think so, too. I doubt she'll ever really accept it, but at least everyone can get along and be civil to each other. I know Junior will be glad for that."

"That was quite a gift Jack gave her."

"I know. He showed it to me a few weeks ago, when he first got the picture for Ennis."

"That's really thoughtful."

"He's like that. He remembers things."

"I bet she feels bad about not getting him anything now," Peter said, smirking a little.

"I don't think he was surprised to get the shaft."

"No." Peter sighed and met her eyes. "Are we on for Saturday night?"

"Sure."

"I, uh…don't suppose you might come over later?"

Liz grinned. "Oh, I don't know. But if you leave that back door unlocked, you never know who might come around."

* * *

Jack stood at the sink, washing dishes while Alma dried. The silence was only a little uncomfortable, in sharp contrast to the excruciating discomfort they would have endured had this task fallen to them a mere three days prior. 

He glanced out the kitchen window; Ennis and Junior were sitting at the firepit, having been released from cleanup duties after they'd cleared and neatened the dining room. Alma let out a little sigh. "She's so like him sometimes," she said.

Jack nodded. "She's like you, too."

A long pause. Alma cleared her throat. "I've gotta thank you again for that picture."

"Don't think too much of it. I really got it for Ennis; givin' it to you too was almost an afterthought."

"Quit that, now."

"Quit what?"

"You're jus' tryin' to make me feel better for not gettin' you nothing."

"Alma, I didn't expect nothin' from you."

Another long pause. Alma dried each plate, each glass, as Jack set them dripping on the drainer, turning to stack them on the kitchen island. She tossed her damp towel aside and picked up a fresh one. "Ennis gets migraines sometimes," she said, out of the blue, keeping her eyes on the task at hand. "Aspirin don't touch 'em. Best to jus' let 'em run their course."

"Okay."

"Don't never let him eat strawberries. He loves 'em, but they give him hives."

"Uh-huh."

"He won't never admit it, but he's powerful afraid of the dentist. If you c'n get him t'make an appointment you best go with, 'cause he'll skip out given half a chance."

"Okay."

Jack kept his thoughts to himself as she continued. _I know all this. Don't you think that I know all this? I've lived with him for seven years. I know about the migraines and the dentist-phobia and his tendency to lose his wallet. I know how he takes his coffee and what kind of music he likes and I know how to hold him when he has nightmares. I know things you don't know. Do you know about his secret boyhood dreams of being a firefighter? Do you know he's still afraid of his daddy? Can you tell me what peace looks like on his face?_

But he just listened as she told him what she thought he needed to know, nodding and accepting the only gift she could give him.

* * *

Ennis carried Alma's bags up from the bungalow and loaded them into the trunk of the Mercedes, then came back into the house, where everyone was gathered in the living room. Alma was putting on her coat. "You got everything, Mamma?" Junior asked. 

"I think so," Alma said.

"Well…we best be going, then."

Alma nodded. She took a deep breath and turned to face the three of them, a look of determined goodwill on her face. "I want t'thank all of you for havin' me. It was…real nice."

"It was very nice to meet you, finally," Liz said. Ennis was grateful for her easy way with people, a gift he sometimes envied. She stepped forward and hugged Alma, who returned the embrace.

"Maybe you c'n come visit us in Wyoming sometime," she said. "Come along with Junior one a these times…if I c'n ever get her back out there again," she said, shooting Junior a glance.

"I'd love that," Liz said, and damned if she didn't sound sincere.

Alma turned to him. "Good t'see you, Ennis," she said, evenly. "It's a real nice place you got here."

He nodded. "Glad you could come," he managed.

Alma stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, quick and perfunctory. "You're doin' real well for Junior. I want you t'know I appreciate it."

"You give Francine my love. Even if she don't wanna take it," he said.

She nodded. "I will." She shut her eyes briefly, took a breath, and turned towards Jack. "Goodbye, Jack," she said.

Jack smiled. "I'm glad we, uh…got the chance t'get better acquainted," he said, carefully.

Alma looked like she might have an issue to raise with that statement, then thought better of it. "So am I," she finally said, opting for diplomacy. Jack stuck out his hand. She stared at it for a moment, then shook it briskly. "You take care," she said.

"You too. Safe trip."

Junior stepped forward. "C'mon, Mamma. You don't want t'miss your flight."

Alma glanced around at them, smiled a little uncertainly, then turned and stepped towards the door. She hesitated, then faced them again. "Y'all be well," she said, then she and Junior went out the front door and headed down to the car.

As if it had been rehearsed, Ennis, Jack and Liz all let out a breath at once. Liz laughed. "Gee, you think we were tense at all?"

Jack clapped a hand to Ennis's shoulder. "Well, look here we all are, still alive," he said.

"Ain't that a fuckin' miracle," Ennis said.

"Come on, the leftovers are calling me," Liz said. "Who's for a ham sandwich and some pie? We'll eat it right out of the pie pan. Three forks. Or fingers. I don't care."

"Aw, hell yes," Jack said, as the little group trooped into the kitchen. Liz was already at the fridge, pulling out wrapped containers and foil-covered pie pans. Ennis sat down on one of the stools at the island; Jack sat next to him. "And now that it's our house again, I can do this," he said, then he grabbed Ennis's head in his hands and kissed him. Ennis was too surprised to react at first, but he couldn't deny that he shared Jack's relief to have the freedom they usually enjoyed in their own house back again. He kissed back, one hand wandering to Jack's thigh.

"Well, shit," he heard Liz say. "If you two are just gonna chew on each other, I guess that's just more pie for me."

Jack pulled back, grinning. "Naw, we'll save the chewin' for later. Gimme a fork."

"Where's that leftover lemon meringue?" Ennis said, grabbing a fork of his own. Liz slid the right pie plate over to him. The idea of sandwiches seemed to have been abandoned; it was easier to just pick bits off the leftover ham as it was.

"We s'posed ta keep these ham bones?" Jack said, searching for the crispy black bits that were his favorite.

"Why?" Liz asked, forking pumpkin pie into her mouth.

"I dunno! Don'tcha make soup or somethin' out of 'em?"

"How should I know? Oh wait, I forgot. I'm a woman, therefore I know about ham bones and soup."

"Well, you know everythin' else in the fuckin' world. S'cuse my presumption, Miss Liberated Gal."

"That's _Ms._ Liberated Gal to you, mister."

"Oh, you're in trouble now, rodeo. Don'tcha know that Miss is an antiquated, misogynistic term of address that degrades the dignity of independent ladies such as our Lizzie here?"

"That's an awful lotta big words, genius. You been readin' Cosmo again?"

"You wouldn't talk smart if you knew how many sex tips I'd gotten outta Cosmo."

Jack hooted laughter, nearly choking on a mouthful of ham. "Well hell, then I'll fuckin' pay t'renew your subscription."

Ennis joined in their laughter, feeling the rightness of their normal home situation clicking back into place, free of anyone who might look upon them with judgemental eyes. His man, his friend, and his daughter soon to return, likely to be mad that they'd eaten all the leftover pie.


	11. Chapter 11

Ennis hoped that he looked thoughtful and attentive, because inside he was flagellating himself. _I'm a bad man. I'm a terrible husband. What the hell's wrong with me? I must be some kinda fuckin' heartless bastard._ And so on in variations on a theme.

He was sitting at the firepit, Jack in the chair next to him. It was a perfect Vermont winter evening, still as a picture-postcard, Christmas-carol snow falling out into the yard. They were warm and toasty from the firepit, sheltered by the overhanging trees, their linked hands resting on the arm of Jack's deck chair. He was thinking such disparaging things about himself because even though Jack was staring into the fire and talking about Bobby, his voice full of sadness and grief, Ennis couldn't seem to pay attention. His mind kept wandering. His eyes would drift out towards the yard and he'd start thinking about feed shipments or the present he'd gotten Junior for Christmas and then he'd suddenly snap back, realizing that Jack had said something requiring a response and Ennis had no idea what he'd been talking about.

_Cain't you even pay attention to your man when he's pourin' his fuckin' heart out? Christ, you must have a lump a coal for a heart. No wonder Alma left your sorry ass. Be lucky if Jack don't do the same one a these days._

Jack didn't seem to have cottoned on to his distraction. Ennis had managed to give him the correct responses when called upon. So far.

As inconsiderate as he suspected he was being, he also thought he might be forgiven, seeing as he'd heard this same speech six times at least in the past few days.

It had started the night Alma left, the day they'd had their pre-Christmas family dinner. Once Liz and Junior had retired to the bungalow, Jack had gotten real quiet. Ennis had let him be, figuring that the day's reminder of Bobby was reason enough for him to be feeling a little gloomy. They'd gone to bed, exchanging only a few muttered words and a goodnight kiss before putting out the light.

Ennis had woken up well after midnight to find himself alone in bed. Jack's side was cold, and the bathroom was dark. _Where the hell's he gotten off to?_ he'd wondered, dragging himself out of bed and shivering when his bare feet hit the cold wood.

He'd found Jack in the hallway, sitting on the floor, looking up at Bobby's framed jersey. He'd seemed half-asleep still, and Ennis hadn't known what to do. He was afraid to wake him; he'd always heard that was bad luck or somethin'. He couldn't just let him sit out here all night, though. In the end he'd just helped Jack off the floor and half-carried him back to bed. He hadn't said much, or explained why he'd been struck by the urge to go look at the jersey in the middle of the night. He'd just curled into Ennis's arms and cried a few quiet tears, then dropped off to sleep.

He hadn't seemed to remember the incident in the morning, but just after lunch he'd come and found Ennis in the stables and said that he needed to talk about Bobby. So they'd sat on the bench outside Saskatoon's stall and Ennis had listened while Jack talked. He was used to listening while Jack talked. It was damned near the defining activity of their relationship. Needless to say, he was glad to be there for Jack as he dealt with such a terrible loss. It made him feel good, in a way, that when Jack felt bad it was Ennis he came to. It made him feel needed, and reassured him that he was Jack's Most Important Person, just as Jack was his.

He'd listened again that night after supper. And the next morning in bed. And the next afternoon. Three days now, and Jack couldn't seem to shake it off. Ennis was sympathetic, and he had to admit he'd been anticipating (dreading, really) that the holidays might be difficult for Jack, but by now he'd heard the grieving monologue over and over…and over. It was always more or less the same. He'd start by talking about how much he missed Bobby. He'd talk about all the good things about Bobby. Then he'd start in on how it was all his fault, and that it wouldn't have happened if he'd been there to help Bobby through a hard time. Then he'd start talking about all the things Bobby would never experience, and how awful it was that Bobby would never grow to manhood. Ennis knew his job was to sit there by his side, hold his hand if needed, nod his head and make the appropriate sympathetic noises, reassure Jack that it'd all be all right and that it _wasn't_ his fault, and make sure he knew that somebody in the world cared about his pain.

All of Jack's feelings were normal, Ennis thought. He could empathize easily with all of them, being a father himself. And he knew that Jack would be there for him if he ever needed comfort.

But damn. Three fuckin' days.

So tonight, on the deck, Jack had started up again. And Ennis couldn't seem to keep his mind focused. _Three days is nothin',_ he told himself._ He's lost his son. Is it so much t'ask that you listen to whatever he wants t'talk about for a few days without goin' woolgatherin'? Give him your fuckin' attention, asshole. Quit thinkin' about Junior's new horse and the damned price a feed…although y'know, I bet we could get a better price from that new guy up Burlington, he'll wanna start buildin' a customer base, I oughta have Lizzie look into…_

I'm a terrible husband.

"…and it just kills me, y'know?" Pause. "Ennis?"

Ennis jumped a little. "Oh yeah, I know."

Jack was peering at him. "You ain't heard a word I've said, have you?"

"Course I have," Ennis said, hoping he sounded sufficiently indignant at the very idea that he might not have been paying attention.

Jack got up, heaving a sigh, and walked a few paces away, shaking his head. "Is my personal tragedy _boring_ you?" he asked, turning back towards Ennis.

"No, a course not!"

"I'm sorry to have taken up your precious fuckin' _time,_" Jack spat, then grabbed up his coat and started back to the house.

Ennis reached out and seized his arm. "Jack, c'mon. Don't be like that."

"Don't be like _what,_ Ennis? Like myself? I know it must be a terrible burden on you t'listen t'me jabber about everything all the time, seein' as you wouldn't say shit if you had a mouthful. But that's just me, I gotta _talk_ about stuff." He yanked his arm away. "I guess I'll just go talk t'myself. Least I know I ain't bein' no imposition then." He disappeared into the house, slamming the door after him.

Ennis sank back into his deck chair, blowing air through his teeth. _Nice goin', champ. You sure handled that well._

* * *

Liz was coming up to the deck stairs from the bungalow when she heard Jack's angry voice, then a hard door slam. _What fresh hell is this?_ she thought, cautiously climbing the stairs. Ennis was sitting in a deck chair, looking like he wished he could just open a hole in the earth and jump in. He didn't even look at her. "What's, uh…going on?" she asked.

He sniffed. "Nothin'."

"Sure," she said. She sat down in the chair Jack had, apparently, just vacated. "I believe that. Oh, and I heard about this great bridge for sale."

That got a low, reluctant chuckle out of him. "It's just…Jack."

Liz nodded. "He's been pretty quiet these past few days. Quiet and sad."

"Yeah."

"Is it Bobby?"

"I thought the holiday might dredge it up. Plus what happened at Alma's dinner with my stupid fuckin' toast…never meant that, but cain't take it back now."

"I've been trying to leave him be," Liz said.

"Well, I cain't leave him be, cause it's me he comes to when he needs to talk about it. Which he's been doin'. A lot."

The light was beginning to dawn. "Ah."

Ennis shook his head. "I'm awful sorry for him, you know I am. And I cain't imagine how I'd feel if I'd lost Junior or Francie. But…" He trailed off, cutting a quick glance at her then looking away again.

She leaned closer. "You wish he'd just get over it, don't you?"

Ennis folded his arms over his his chest. "I'm a terrible husband," he muttered.

"No, you're not. You're just human. Of course we all feel bad for Jack's loss. But sympathy only goes so far. There's a limit to how deeply we can feel someone else's pain. In the end, it's less about being sorry for Bobby's death than it is that you just don't want Jack to feel bad anymore."

"Yeah, that's it exactly."

"And part of that is so you won't have to hear about it anymore and things can be back to normal, am I right?"

He sighed. "Ain't you always?" He grunted. "Sure makes me seem like an asshole, though."

"Everyone goes through this who has to help someone else through a loss, Ennis. When I was in college, my best friend's father died. For the first week or so I was totally on board with her grief. I did everything I could to help, let her cry on my shoulder, listen to her stories about him. After a little while though, it was like…are you done yet? It's an awful feeling to have, but understandable. It might make us feel like bad people, but the best thing we can do is hide it well."

"I was, or I thought I was. He was just talkin' to me out here," Ennis said. "Same as the past three days. I could almost sing along by now. That's like Jack, though. If he c'n keep sayin' it until he finds just the exact right way to put it, it'll go away and get fixed. That's how he thinks. Tonight, though…my mind kept wanderin'. I tried t'pay attention, I really did. Well, he saw I wasn't. Set him off good. Cain't say I blame him."

Liz frowned. "He's seemed all right with it for so long, though."

"I think the word there is 'seemed,' Lizzie. Bobby dyin' was in the midst a all that Forrester crap, then me'n him had our troubles, then you movin' in and buildin' the bungalow and Junior comin'…so much goin' on."

"He never grieved properly."

"Don't seem so."

"Well, the holidays can be tough on people who haven't lost anybody. Big time of the year for suicides." Ennis turned towards her, his eyes wide with alarm. "Not that Jack's going to commit suicide or anything," she hastened to add. "I just mean it can be depressing even if you haven't lost a child. And this is the time of year he'd be seeing him, right?"

Ennis nodded. "It prob'ly don't help t'see me with my daughter here." He shook his head. "I still got family. I got Junior, and Francie, and maybe even Alma. He's got nobody." He lowered his head. "Nobody but me."

"That isn't true," Liz said. "He has his parents, even if they're not close. He's got me, and Junior too."

"Maybe so. But he don't feel like he's got no claim on nobody but me. I'm the only one obligated to him."

"Is that why you've been there for him? Because you're obligated?"

"No, that ain't what I meant!" He sniffed again, then stood up. "I'm goin' t'bed, Lizzie."

"It's only nine o'clock!"

"I jus' wanna sleep and wake up when it's all over."

"Go find him and make it right, Ennis. Tomorrow's Christmas Eve. We can't have you two fighting on the holiday."

"I would if I knew how, city gal. G'night."

* * *

Ennis woke up when the bedroom door opened, but he stayed still and silent. He watched through slitted eyes as Jack undressed, not being too careful to be quiet, and came to bed. He felt the mattress dip as he climbed in. He waited to see if Jack would roll over and touch him, or say something. When they fought, it was usually Jack who wanted to make up, even when he was the one mad. He wasn't good at holding a grudge.

Tonight, though, he stayed well on his side of the bed. Within a few minutes, Ennis heard the deep, even breathing of sleep. He sighed and shut his eyes again. _Should've just apologized,_ he thought. _Prob'ly all he wants. Go ahead, do it now. Wake him up and tell him you're sorry._

It seemed like a good idea, but Ennis couldn't seem to do it. He laid there, debating the matter, until before he knew it, he was asleep, too.

* * *

Jack was already gone when Ennis woke up. He was surprised that his rising hadn't woken him; he glanced at the clock. Only 8:00. He must've gotten up pretty early.

Ennis dressed quickly. His brain seemed to have been cogitating on the problem at hand while he slept, because now he couldn't _wait_ to apologize. He hurried out to the kitchen. Lizzie was there, wrapping the cookie plates she was going to take around to the neighbors. "You seen Jack?" Ennis asked.

She jerked her head towards the door. "Out at the woodpile."

Ennis nodded and headed out the back door, grabbing his coat. It was a sunny day, not too cold, and the snow was blindingly white. Ennis followed Jack's bootprints out to the woodpile, where the swish-and-thwack of Jack's axe preceded the sight of him.

Jack looked up as Ennis walked over to the chopping block. He didn't say anything. "Jack?" Ennis said.

He glanced up. "What you want, Ennis?"

"I jus'…" He took a deep breath. "I'm real sorry about last night."

Jack nodded. "Okay." Thwack. He set another log on the block.

"Is that it?"

Jack paused and looked up at him. "What more you want me t'say? That it's jus' fine how you don't give a shit about Bobby?"

Ennis gaped at him. "How the hell you figure that?"

"Don't take a genius."

"A course I give a shit about Bobby! Christ, Jack, I know how you feel, I…"

Jack cut him off with an angry finger-jab. "Ennis, you don't have the first fuckin' clue how I feel. You cain't. Your kids are alive." He set another log on the block.

Ennis took a deep breath. "That don't mean I cain't imagine, or that I cain't be sick at heart about it."

"You jus' want it all t'go away so you c'n have your nice normal life back. I know my place where you're concerned." Thwack.

Ennis was dumbfounded. He hardly knew what to say. "Your _place?_" he stammered.

"Yeah, my fuckin' place. It's to be good-time Jack, easy 'n smilin', makin' everything okay for your worrisome ass. I'm the contented little wifey, ain't I? S'posed t'be so damned happy that you'd stoop t'live with me that I oughtn't have no other cares in the world. There t'tell you it's okay when you get t'broodin' on God knows what."

"Is that what you think?"

"Tell me I'm wrong." Thwack.

"You're fuckin' wrong!"

"I know you, Ennis. You cain't stomach no one's emotional mess, least of all mine or your own. I wasn't the one fled the cabin last summer like all the demons a hell were chasin' me when we oughta worked it out together! And look what happened!"

Ennis was starting to wonder how long all this had been percolating under Jack's happy exterior. He was afraid of the answer, so he didn't ask. "Jack, you makin' way too much a this. I just got a bit distracted last night, is all! C'n you blame me?"

"C'n I _blame_ you?" Jack asked, his eyes narrowing. The axe was hanging forgotten from his hand.

"Well, Jack, it ain't like you was sayin' anything new. Dammit, it was one tiny moment! I been there for you all along!"

Jack tossed the axe aside and threw up his hands. "Anything _new?_ Oh shit, I plumb forgot I was s'posed t'make everything I say _entertainin'_ so's you wouldn't doze right off!"

Ennis put his hands on his hips and took a few deep breaths. "Jack, Bobby died six months ago. I jus' wanna help you get over this."

Jack nodded. "Oh, I bet you do. Get your contented little wifey back."

Something inside Ennis snapped. He lunged forward and grabbed Jack by the front of his coat. "I don't fuckin' care about no wifey, I care about _you!_" he shouted. "Don't you know it fuckin' kills me t'see you sufferin' when I cain't help you? When I cain't make it stop? I'm so goddamned helpless here, Jack! I jus' wanna take it away, take it onto me so's you wouldn't hafta bear this pain!"

Jack looked back at him, calm. "Yeah. 'Cause then you wouldn't hafta hear about it no more."

Ennis let him go and pushed him away. "Seems you're bound t'make me some kinda bad guy here, damned if I know why."

"Somebody's gotta be one!" Jack cried with sudden violence.

"What the hell're you talkin' about?" Ennis shouted back. "Shit, Jack, I don't get any a this! Six months gone and suddenly you're wallowin' in it? Why's it all at once so damned fierce? Christ, you 'n Bobby weren't even that close!"

The second the words left his mouth, Ennis wished he could take them back. He saw Jack stiffen and gasp, just as he heard himself gasp. He had precious little time to reflect on what he'd just said, nor to even begin to try and take it back, because all at once he was on the ground, jaw stinging from where Jack had just punched him.

He heard Jack's angry footfalls tromping away, squeaking in the cold snow. He just laid there, the snow dampening the backs of his legs through his jeans, staring up at the blue sky while his face throbbed. He heard Jack's truck start up and peel out of the drive, tires spinning a bit in the snow-covered gravel.

_Shit._

* * *

Ennis couldn't stop pacing. Liz and Junior were both watching him while pretending they weren't. "A Christmas Carol" had been on, but now it was on to the evening news. Junior had made cocoa. Ennis's mug had grown cold on the end table.

He was furious. And worried. And terrified. And furious again. It was after eleven o'clock, and Jack hadn't come home. They'd been supposed to go to Christmas Eve service. Jack was supposed to read one of the lessons. He had never thought he'd miss it, but he hadn't come back. Ennis hadn't wanted to go either, so they'd all just stayed home, eating their usual Christmas Eve dinner of homemade soup.

"Goddamn it," he muttered, going to the window again. "Where the fuck is he?"

Junior sighed. "Are you gonna tell us what happened to your face, Daddy?"

"No."

"We pretty much know, you realize."

"Then why the hell'd you ask?"

"You and Jack had a bad fight, huh?" Ennis turned to see Junior's eyes turned up to him, full of worry, wanting to be reassured that _this_ family unit wouldn't go the way of those she'd previously been part of. He wished he had reassurance to give her, but the idea that Jack might have left him for good was popping up with greater and greater insistence with each passing minute.

_He wouldn't. Not after all this time, after all we been through. Not over this._

He cain't. Cause I got no fuckin' idea what I'd do, or how I'd live.

Ennis sat down on the arm of the recliner, where he could still see out the front door. "Yeah, we did, darlin'. But it'll be okay." He crossed his arms. "I jus' wish he'd come home." He stood up. "Damn it, he coulda called! What if he went out 'n got drunk…the roads ain't so good…he wouldn't stay out so long, not on Christmas Eve." He turned to Lizzie. "What if he's hurt or somethin'? What if he wants t'come home and cain't?"

Liz looked worried, which made Ennis _more_ worried. When Lizzie worried, you better worry, too. "I'm sure he's fine," was all she said.

"Maybe we oughta call Walter. Tell him t'be on the lookout."

Liz was looking past him out the window. A small smile crept onto her lips. "Don't think we need to."

Ennis turned to see Jack's truck pulling into the drive. He sagged, relief flooding him. His concern for Jack's safety now moot, the anger came rocketing back with the guilt and regret close on its heels.

Jack tromped up the porch stairs. He didn't seem drunk. He came in the front door and stopped, looking around at all of them staring at him. "Where the fuck you been?" Ennis bit out. "We been worried sick!"

"I been out. Thought I oughta excuse myself for a bit," Jack said, hanging up his coat. He wasn't slurring his words. In fact, he seemed stone cold sober.

"We missed fuckin' church!"

Jack glared at him. "That's what you're concerned about? That we missed _church?_ Never mind everythin' else, God forbid we miss church!"

Junior jumped up and grasped Jack's arm. "Jack, it's Christmas Eve! We're all supposed to be together. It's a family time."

Ennis saw Jack's flinty gaze soften a bit as he looked down at her. "I know, honey. I'm sorry. I jus'…couldn't be here today."

"Whatever you 'n Daddy fought about, you can work it out."

Jack met his eyes. "I don't know, Junior. I really don't." Ennis felt cold all over. _He ain't leavin' me. He cain't. I'll do whatever I gotta do t'fix this. If only I knew what t'fuckin' do._

Liz stood up. "Junior, let's go down to the bungalow. Jack and your dad need to talk. And, uh…I think there's something we can give them that might help." She gave Junior a significant look that Ennis didn't understand, but Junior seemed to. She stepped away from Jack and followed Liz out the back door.

Ennis and Jack eyed each other from across the living room. "Jack, I cain't believe I said what I said," Ennis managed to choke out. "You know I didn't mean that."

"Do I?" Jack said. He looked up at Ennis, and for the first time in Ennis's memory, Jack looked every day of his forty years, and then some. "Maybe what I know now is that it only works for you when I ain't no trouble."

"That ain't so." Ennis took a cautious step forward. "You been nothin' but trouble t'me for twenty years, Twist. Ain't put me off yet, has it?" He thought he saw Jack's lips curl slightly in what might have been a smile. "I ain't so good at dealin' with feelings, mine or anyone elses. This ain't news to you."

"No, it sure ain't."

"And you got more damned feelings than anyone I ever met. But I chose you anyhow, didn't I? Knowin' I'd have t'deal with all them feelings day in and day out?"

Jack sighed. "Sorry I hit you."

"Oh, I believe you owed me a punch from way back in '63. Except you didn't deserve that punch, and I did this one."

They looked at each other for a few moments, saying nothing. The back door opened and Liz and Junior returned, carrying a large, flat, wrapped package. "Daddy, Jack," Junior said. "Me 'n Liz have got a present for you. Was gonna give it to you in the morning, but…well, seems like it might help to give it to you now."

Ennis took the package, puzzled. Jack joined him. They glanced at each other, then began tearing off the wrapping.

The image that emerged made Ennis's whole soul hurt. He heard Jack suck in a breath and knew he saw it, too.

It was Brokeback. A large, beautiful color photograph, framed and glassed. The sun was shining on the rock face, the beams shooting through the purple stormclouds that lurked behind the peaks. He could almost smell the pine, and feel the cold crispness of the streams. Shut his eyes and be back there, just him and Jack, where nothing else had mattered and they were the only two people in the world. "Damn," Jack murmured. He looked up at Liz and Junior, who were watching them with barely-concealed anticipation. "Where'd you get this?"

"You know what that is, right?" Junior squeaked.

"It's Brokeback," Ennis whispered, reaching out to touch the image, wishing he could jump right through and be back there. "It's our place."

"I got the picture from a nature photographer in Signal," Liz said quietly. "We had it enlarged and framed. It's just the right size for over the mantelpiece."

Jack was shaking his head. "It's so beautiful, it's like a fuckin' miracle." He smiled. "You girls did this for us?"

"We know you only get back there once a year, if that," Liz said. "So we thought you might like to have a little piece of it here, in the house."

Ennis nodded, feeling tears rising to his eyes. "Let's see how it looks." He went to the mantel. Jack reached up and took down the rather generic landscape print that hung there and Ennis hung the photo in its place. It looked perfect, like it belonged. He turned to Junior and hugged her tight. "Thank you, darlin'," he murmured. Jack was hugging Lizzie, then they swapped, chuckling a little. "And you too, city gal. It's real special."

"It is like having a bit a Brokeback here," Jack said.

Ennis sighed. "Thing is…I already had me a piece a Brokeback here," he said. He met Jack's eyes and held them. He felt his lip begin to quiver; he couldn't have stopped it if he wanted to, which he didn't. Jack closed his eyes, stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. Ennis flowed against him like water, the tension leaving his body.

"Damn you, cowboy," he muttered into his ear. "Y'know I cain't take it when you cry."

Ennis chuckled a little, the tears flowing freely now and his hands clutching at Jack's back. He barely noticed as Liz and Junior made a discreet exit.

Jack led him to the couch and they sat down together. "I'm sorry, Jack," Ennis said. "For what I said, and how I acted…"

"Shush," Jack said, sounding exhausted. "I don't know how it all got so outta hand. One minute you're a little distracted, next thing I'm sluggin' the man I love. I guess I been a bit…irrational these past few days." He reached up and smoothed Ennis's curls back from his forehead. "Thing is, I know you're sick a me bellyachin' about Bobby. I don't blame you. I'm sick of it, too. I'm sick of my gloomy-ass self. But I cain't help it. I don't know why it's comin' on me so right now. Wish I did. Wish I could make it stop, but I cain't. But if there's somethin' that's gonna shake me out of it, it's you. So I'm gonna latch right on whether you like it or not."

Ennis sighed. "That's what I signed on for, right?" he said, holding up his left ring finger.

"Damn straight." Jack leaned in and kissed him, his hand going to Ennis's cheek. Ennis hissed and drew back. Jack's withdrew quickly, his brows drawing in. "Oh, I'm sorry, cowboy," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the bruise he'd left.

"Don't be. I deserved it." Ennis looked down at his hands, unable to meet Jack's eyes. "Was a rotten thing I said."

Jack nodded. "Yes. It was a pretty awful thing." He sighed. "Don't mean it weren't true, though. I wasn't as close t'Bobby as I ought to've been. Maybe that's why this is so hard now. Cain't never get no closer. I lost that chance."

"And it's Christmas. Hard time for lotsa people. Time when you want your family."

"I'm jus' glad I still got one here."

"You sure do," Ennis said. "Stepdaughter, and live-in friend, and, uh…" He harrumphed. "A little wifey t'warm your bed."

Jack chuckled. "Hmmm. Nothin' about you's little, as I recall."

"I c'n see how's you might forget. It's been a few days."

"Few days too fuckin' long." Ennis stood up and extended a hand to pull Jack off the couch. "So take me t'bed and have your way with me. Then…" He stopped by the fireplace, glancing up at their new piece of artwork. "I want you t'tell me about the day Bobby was born. You ain't never told me that story."

"Haven't I?"

"Nope."

"Be glad to. Uh…on both counts."

Ennis slung his arm around Jack's waist and they headed toward their bedroom. The clock caught his eye and he stopped. "Hey. It's after midnight." He turned towards Jack. "Merry Christmas, baby." He leaned close and kissed his lips, slow and lingering.

Jack kept his hand on Ennis's cheek, the one he hadn't punched, as they drew apart. "Merry Christmas, Ennis."

"It is now."


	12. Chapter 12

(from the "Columns" section of the New York Post, December 23, 1983)

_**CITY GAL  
Adventures of an Urban Expatriate**  
by Liz Baskerville_

If you think that Christmas is somehow more magical and more picturesque in New England than in other parts of the country, well...you're right. It is. This is the land of winter ski vacations and cocoa around the open hearth and Bing Crosby singing about counting his blessings. There's just something about New England that suits the holiday. The Currier & Ives scenes of bridges over frozen ponds, the rock-walled fields covered in pristine blankets of quieting snow, the jolly townsfolk, the ice skating down at the riverpark...we practically bleed Americana here in Vermont. I'm sure it isn't like this everywhere in New England, but it sure is here in my town. Our friends Grant and Martha even own a _sleigh._ An honest-to-God sleigh. It's shiny black and red, and there are fur blankets to keep you warm as you ride over the river and through the woods. And yes, the horses wear sleighbells. The first time I rode in it, Jack and Ennis laughed at the expression on my face. I kept waiting for the director to yell "cut" and the scene to end.

The people here seem to be perfectly aware that they live inside a Norman Rockwell painting, and they do their best to play the parts. The trees that line the downtown streets are filled with holiday lights, there's a huge town Christmas tree in the square, and you practically have to elbow your way through the gangs of carolers to get down the sidewalk. Last weekend we attended the annual Winter Carnival, and there was a vendor selling chestnuts, which he was indeed roasting on an open fire. I can't say whether Jack Frost was nipping at my nose, but there were definitely folks dressed up like Eskimoes.

It's been an eventful holiday season here at the homestead. Ennis's ex-wife has been visiting, and you can imagine the awkwardness we were all dreading. Happily, her visit went better than any of us could have hoped for, and as I write this, she is cooking a pre-Christmas feast for all of us before she rejoins her family in Wyoming. Is it a yuletide miracle that a woman with good cause for bitterness can spend a family holiday in the home of her ex-husband and his male life partner? Or is it just this Vermont atmosphere of peace on earth, goodwill towards men?

* * *

Ennis opened his eyes to see that Jack was already awake. He was just lying there, staring at the ceiling, his face peaceful in the gray early-morning light, magnified by the snow on the ground outside. "Y'okay?" Ennis murmured.

"Mmm-hmm," Jack said. He fell silent for a few moments. Ennis slid a little closer and let his cheek rest against Jack's shoulder. "Do you s'pose they have Christmas in heaven?" Jack said.

Ennis smiled. "Thought that was where Christmas came from."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Thinkin' about Bobby?"

"A little." He turned his head and met Ennis's eyes. "Y'think I'll ever see him again?"

Ennis wished he could say _yes, of course you will_ with confidence, but he couldn't, not even to give Jack some hollow comfort. "I don't know."

Jack sighed and resumed his perusal of the ceiling. "Accordin' to some...well, okay, most...you 'n me are goin' straight t'hell for our perverted abominations."

"Some say so."

He hesitated. "Then again...some say that Bobby'd go straight t'hell for takin' his own life."

Ennis nodded. "Some say that, too."

"Maybe there ain't no heaven or hell." He met Ennis's eyes again. "I know that ain't no way for a churchgoin' man t'be talkin'."

"Father Mike says it's okay to wonder about it. Everybody does." Ennis thought for a moment, debating whether to continue. _Aw hell, I oughtn't censor myself 'round my own fella,_ he thought. "I seen dead bodies. Coupla times. Some fresh, some...not so fresh. What happens t'us after we're dead ain't no different than what happens t'cows, or horses, or roadkill. Makes you wonder why think we're so goddamned special that we get some kinda afterlife when it don't seem no other creature gets t'go along."

Jack looked thoughtful. "What _do_ you believe?"

"I believe we go on. Don't know how, exactly. Maybe it's just 'cause I don't like t'think that someday one of us'll die and I'll never see you again. I gotta think that we'll meet up again...somewhere."

Jack blinked. "Are you tellin' me that you only believe in heaven so you 'n me can stay together after we die?"

"You got a better reason t'believe in it?"

He smiled slowly, sliding one hand up to Ennis's cheek. "Y'know, right now, I surely cain't think of one."

Ennis let himself relax into Jack's touch. Even after all this time, he struggled with the constraints he'd always placed on himself around Jack, a reserve he'd cultivated even when they were alone. When Jack had been hurt last summer, he'd promised himself...and Jack...that he'd leave it behind. His instinct was still to hold back. _Don't let it show, don't let him see, don't let anyone see, hold it in, keep it down, cinch it tight._ It was a conscious effort to just let go.

"What is goin' on in that brain?" Jack murmured.

"I was jus' thinkin'. Sure have been lots a changes since last Christmas."

"That's for sure."

"Never thought I'd be lucky enough t'have Junior here on Christmas morning."

"It's a blessin' for certain."

Ennis reached up and took Jack's hand. "Never thought you'd hafta go through the season without Bobby."

Jack looked away, his jaw clenching for a moment. "I jus' gotta keep my eye on what I got," he said, quietly. "I got this ranch, more'n I ever thought I'd have, and friends, and Lizzie, and Junior. And I got you."

Ennis could see that this enumeration of blessings wasn't exactly putting Jack's loss out of his mind. He pulled him into a tight embrace, wishing again that he could flick a magic wand and make it all go away. "You always gonna have me, darlin'," he whispered. He kissed the top of Jack's head. "Things're only gonna get better from now on."

Jack laid there in his arms for a few moments, saying nothing. Ennis felt the tension gradually drain from his shoulders and knew he was on top of it again...for now. He drew back, and Ennis was relieved to see him smiling. "Don't s'pose I could get an early Christmas present?"

Ennis had an idea what present Jack wanted. The hand sliding up his leg underneath the covers was a dead giveaway. "Depends which one you wanna open first."

"Too bad I cain't find you under the tree, all wrapped up."

"Where'd you reckon I oughta put the big red bow?" Ennis said, smirking and surprising himself with his own sauciness. Jack could bring it out of him, though. His patience for flirty banter, however, was finite. "C'mere," he growled, pulling Jack to him with one hand while his other grabbed for Jack's pajama bottoms.

"Hmm," Jack hummed into his mouth, unable to form words for the moment. He arched his neck back as Ennis worked his way down, both of them wriggling free of their clothes. "Looks like I been a good boy this year. Santa brung me jus' what I wanted."

* * *

Liz came quietly into the kitchen through the back door, not wanting to wake Jack and Ennis. She had a particular task this morning; she was making homemade cinnamon rolls. Marty Linebeck, who was famous for this particular pastry as well as her barbecue, had taught her how, and now she was going to make a batch solo for the first time. She'd made the dough the day before so it could rise; it was waiting for her in the fridge.

She put on some coffee for herself and was collecting the ingredients for the cinnamon filling when she heard shuffling footsteps. She turned around to see Jack enter, eyes half-closed, hair sticking up. He was in his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. "I smell coffee," he muttered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you guys."

He grunted and made for the coffeepot. "Merry Christmas, swee'pea," he said, the words half-swallowed in a huge yawn. He bent and kissed her cheek, then started in staring at the drip of the percolator like it held all the world's secrets.

"Merry Christmas, Jack." She looked past him to the corridor. "Is Ennis getting up?"

"Nah, he's dead t'the world. Give him an hour or two."

"Why are you up so early?"

"Oh, y'know...I was just gettin' my first Christmas present." he said, winking at her. "Why you think he's dead t'the world? I heard the door open then smelled the coffee, figured you must be up. What's all this, now?"

"I'm making cinnamon rolls. Marty taught me how."

"Aw, that's mighty nice a you. Her cinnamon rolls are like a little bit of heaven."

"Well, we'll see if I can make them as well as she can."

Jack sat at the kitchen island with his coffee and watched her roll the dough in silence for a moment. "I gotta thank you again for that picture," he finally said.

"I'm so glad you like it," she said. "Me and Junior both. We couldn't wait to give it to you."

"Well, I'm sorry t'say that I ain't got anythin' for you under that tree that even comes close."

Liz paused and met his eyes. "Jack, you and Ennis have already given me too much."

Jack shifted on his stool and cut his eyes to the side for a moment. As she watched him a smirk came onto his face. "Y'know, I bet Pete'd have somethin' more substantial under that tree for you if you'd let him."

Liz sighed. "Has he been talking to you?"

"The man is serious about you, y'know."

She resumed rolling the dough. "I know."

"You sayin' you ain't serious?"

"No, I'm...serious."

"D'you love him?"

"Of course I do!" Liz said. "Why wouldn't I? He's wonderful."

Jack just watched her for a moment, then looked down at his coffee before speaking. "Y'know, I've had seven years to get used to my life here. Sometimes I'm afraid I've started taking it all for granted. It's jus' so easy t'forget what things was like before." He looked up, his gaze focused off into the middle distance. "Times I'll be about my day, doin' somethin' ordinary like muckin' out the stables or ridin' the circuit, and suddenly I'll remember that this is my place, and I live here with Ennis, and it ain't no daydream I'm having while I'm tryin' not t'fall asleep at my desk in L.D.'s showroom. Then I'll see Ennis walk by and wave at me, or gimme a smile that I know's jus' for me, or even if he ignores me completely, and it feels like I might jus' burst wide open, like this body ain't big enough t'hold in everythin', cause what I feel for him's jus' so damned huge that it carried me through thirteen years and halfway across the country." He met her eyes again and spoke softly. "D'you love Pete like that, Lizzie?"

She stared down at her cinnamon rolls, taking shape now and ready for slicing, and felt tears sting her eyes. "I want to," she whispered.

"I know you do."

She put one hand to her eyes. "I don't know _what_ I feel!" she exclaimed, her secret doubts and fears coming rocketing up her throat like a freight train. "I mean, I _think_ I love him, but how do I know? I don't trust myself! I thought I felt like that about Charlie and in six months it was just gone! What if it was never there? What if this isn't really there, either?"

"Honey, there ain't no way to tell. If it's real, you know it."

"But I thought I knew it before! And how I feel about Peter is totally different than how I felt about Charlie!"

"Maybe that's a good sign."

Liz attacked the rolled-up tube of dough and cinnamon with her knife, suddenly irritated. "Who made you the expert, anyway?" she snapped. "How many people have you loved in your life, Jack?"

He didn't seem put off, but only held her gaze steadily. "Just the one."

She sagged against the countertop. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to unload on you like this...and on Christmas morning, of all times!"

"Don't apologize, I'm the one brought it up." He smiled. "I jus' wanna see you happy, swee'pea. Even if it means you might leave home."

She shook her head, the thought of leaving the ranch too awful to contemplate, even if it were with Peter. "I'm not leaving," she said. "I don't know for sure how I feel about Peter, and even if I was ready to make some kind of a commitment to him...I don't know if I could leave. I've just barely started to get used to my life here. I can't take another upheaval quite yet."

"Well, I for sure ain't gonna rush you out the door. Life's sure a whole lot better since you came, and no mistake. I cain't even tell you how happy it makes Ennis to have Junior here."

"That wasn't my doing."

"No, but you're sorta...I dunno, part of it. And havin' you workin' here has been real good for us, and I don't just mean business-wise." He hesitated. "I feel like Ennis 'n me have turned some kinda corner since you showed up and got us talkin' about things we put off for years. I mean, there was some bad stuff goin' on last summer with Forrester and Bobby..." He broke off and looked away, swallowing hard, then went on. "But Ennis asked me for a ring, and married me, as much as he could, and that ain't no small thing."

"I doubt I had anything to do with any of that," Liz said, touched by the mere suggestion, "but if I did, then I'm glad." She took a breath, steeling herself for something that ought to have been said before now. "You know, Jack...the way I wish I felt about Peter?" He nodded. "There was a time that I thought I felt that way about you."

She waited for him to gasp and stare, but he just smiled. "Yeah, I know."

Liz was struck dumb for a moment. "You...you know?"

"I half expected it. Once you told us what kinda situation you were in with Charlie, and we saw how much this place was agreein' with you...well, we figured you were bound t'get a crush on one of us. Only question was which one. One night Ennis come t'bed and said 'Well, I think Lizzie done made up her mind, and you owe me ten bucks.'"

Liz felt a flush rising to her cheeks, embarrassed to have been so transparent. "I feel like such an idiot," she said, putting the sliced rolls into the baking pan.

"Naw, don't. It's only natural. I knew it wasn't really about me, but more about what I wasn't. Wasn't Charlie, wasn't city, wasn't anything like where you was from."

She smiled. "Well, I'm glad you understand. I hope Ennis didn't feel slighted."

"Nah. Did tease me a bit over it till I told him ta cut it the hell out. Well, speak a the devil," Jack said, turning toward the hallway and the sound of approaching bare feet on the hardwood floors. Ennis came out in his robe, smiling sleepily.

"Merry Christmas," he said, his eyes still half-shut.

Liz poured him a coffee. "Morning," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He blushed, which Liz thought was just about the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

"Thanks," he said, taking the coffee and sitting down next to Jack. He leaned in and kissed him, taking his time about it, which surprised her. She chalked up his lack of inhibitions to morning grogginess.

"Merry Christmas, darlin'," Jack murmured as Ennis drew back.

"That it is," Ennis grunted.

* * *

Jack put on his coat and scarf, stepping into the loafers he put on when he was only going to be out for a minute and didn't want to yank his boots on. Ennis had gone out half an hour ago for the stated reason of "gettin' some air" and hadn't returned. Luckily, he was easy to track by his footprints in the fresh snow.

Jack followed the trail down to the stables. He poked his head into the deserted building, smelling the horses and hearing their breathing…and something else. A quiet, choked sound. He crept forward, now able to see Ennis's hat above the walls of Saskatoon's stall.

Ennis was standing next to the horse, leaning against her shoulder, the curry brush in one hand as he stroked her nose with the other. For a moment Jack didn't know what he was doing, but then his shoulders hitched and he realized with alarm that he was _crying._ "Ennis?" he said.

Ennis jumped and surreptitiously swiped at his eyes, resuming his brushing of Saskatoon's hide as if he'd never stopped. "What is it, Jack?"

"You been out here half an hour. We gotta leave for Fred 'n Arlene's pretty soon. Don't you wanna take a shower? Get changed?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll just…uh…I'll be up in a second." He was sniffing madly and keeping his face turned away.

Jack stepped forward. "Look at me." Ennis didn't turn. Jack seized his arm and pulled him around. "Ennis…why are you down here cryin' in the stables all by yourself? What's wrong?"

Ennis harrumphed. "Nothin'."

"The hell nothin'. After that nice mornin' we jus' had, you come out here to the stables to…what, to cry? Why? Somethin' botherin' you?"

"I ain't cryin'!" Ennis exclaimed, turning his face towards Jack. His eyes were red and swollen, but his face was dry.

"No, you're just down here communin' with the beasts and getting' somethin' in your eyes. Tell me what's wrong, dammit!"

Ennis stared at the floor, shaking his head slowly. "Ain't right."

"What ain't?"

"Ain't right you gotta have Christmas without your boy." He chanced a brief glance at Jack's eyes.

Jack's chest clenched and he took a step closer. "Aw, Ennis…you don't gotta cry on my account."

"I didn't mean to!" he said, sounding a little confused. "I jus' came out here for a breath a fresh air, thought I'd give Saskatoon a little brush…I'll tell ya, Jack, seein' you open up that present got me right in the stomach."

Jack nodded. It had a similar effect on him. Amidst all the expected presents under the tree was a mystery package from Lureen that Liz had put with the other gifts. Puzzled, Jack had opened it to find a note from her saying that Bobby had made the enclosed in wood shop the preceding spring and had said that he meant it for a Christmas gift, so she'd thought she'd send it along.

Opening the package had been an act of sheer will on Jack's part. His whole body felt like it was vibrating, wondering what this gift from his late son could be, half-wishing that he could just put it aside and forget that it existed…another reminder of what he'd lost, just when he'd thought there could be no more surprises.

The gift had been a carved wooden sign, artistic in a folk-art sort of way. It looked like he'd meant it to hang from the porch roof out front. It said "Brokeback Ranch" in large block letters, and in smaller ones below, "Jack Twist and Ennis Del Mar, Owners and Operators."

He'd sat there for a few moments, waiting for the gift to send him careening back into despair, but it had not. He'd thought of Bobby in wood shop, laboring over the sign, measuring the letters, tracing them with a pencil, handling the router and the jigsaw, and all he'd felt was an absurd kind of happiness that Bobby had thought of him so far in advance of the holiday, and had spent so much time on this sign…and that he'd included Ennis's name on it.

"I know," he said now. "That was a real nice gift." He felt tears prickling his eyes as he thought of it again.

Ennis nodded. "I jus' got t'thinkin' where we might hang it, then I started thinkin' how it'd be the last Christmas present you ever got from him and how him bein' gone was hurtin' you …" He shook his head. "I jus' started cryin' without meanin' to." He sniffed and fidgeted, not wanting to look Jack in the eye. "Stupid, huh?"

Jack pulled Ennis into his arms and hugged him tight. _He's here cryin' cause I'm hurtin',_ he thought. _I guess that tells me somethin'._ "It ain't stupid," he said into Ennis's ear. "Them tears are a gift t'me, Ennis."

Ennis hugged him back. "I jus' feel awful bad about it," he said. "I wish I could do somethin'."

"You can. You're doin' it right now."

* * *

Jack stared into their closet while Ennis took a shower, pondering what to wear. Over the past few years, they'd gotten into the habit of having Christmas dinner with Fred and Arlene Trimble. They saw no reason to deviate from that habit even given their changed domestic situation, especially since the Trimbles had extended the invitation to include Liz and Junior. Later that night, the whole group of them, along with several dozen other people, would gather at the Linebeck's for their annual Christmas Night No-Kids-Allowed party. There would be rum toddies, enough cookies and candies for an army, Grant would play the piano, somebody would cop a drunken feel of someone else's wife, and if the pattern of previous years held, somebody would try without success to get Ennis to kiss Jack underneath the mistletoe.

So far, Christmas had been very nice, Ennis's little crying jag in the stable notwithstanding. Bobby's gift had been an unexpected blessing…it almost felt like having a little piece of him there. Lizzie had surprised them with a brand-new computer, already installed in the office with a big red bow around it. "When'd you set this up?" Ennis had asked, gaping in astonishment.

Liz had laughed. "It's been there for over a week. When's the last time either of you set foot in this office?" They'd just looked at each other, mutual chagrin on their faces that they were so predictable.

The best reaction, by far, had been Junior's. They'd led her to the stable with a coat over her nightgown, Ennis holding his hands over her eyes, although Jack didn't know how she could have been in the dark about what waited for her there. Whether she'd guessed it or not, she'd still squealed and jumped up and down like a little girl when she saw her new horse, a three-year-old bay that she'd immediately named Gretchen. It had been all they could do to hold her back from saddling up and riding off right then, bare-legged and hatless.

Jack had watched Junior's face when she saw her gift, and her joy was infectious. When she'd launched herself first into Ennis's arms, and then into his own, it was hard to remember that she wasn't his daughter, wasn't _their_ daughter.

Since Bobby's death, Jack's ache for his lost child had begun to morph into a growing need to fill the hole that he'd left. Jack had been a father for his entire adult life, and the fact that he no longer was one seemed to have chipped off a piece of his identity, leaving him with phantom pain as if he'd lost a limb. He'd poured some of his parental longings into Junior, but she was an adult herself and scarcely needed active parenting even from her own father, let alone from him. He'd found himself thinking again of an old idea, once broached in a less-than-ideal moment, about him and Ennis becoming foster fathers. The notion had appeal, but he wondered if it was one of those things that was better contemplated than attempted.

Still, he couldn't deny that he had moments when he looked at Ennis and wished that they could have a child that was _theirs._ Barring a biological miracle, that wasn't going to happen. But maybe there were other ways.

Ennis came out of the shower, toweling his hair. "All yours," he said.

Jack stripped and headed into the bathroom, but he'd scarcely gotten underneath the water before he was suddenly not alone. "Hey," he said. "You're already clean."

"I think I missed a spot," Ennis growled, ducking his head to kiss Jack breathless, bending him slightly backwards until he had to hang onto Ennis's shoulders to keep from falling over. He drew back, a half-smile on his face. "Yeah, that's the spot I missed."

"Well, if you're gonna take up all this room you gotta do the work," Jack said.

"My pleasure." Ennis turned him around and Jack stood there, his head lolling on his neck as Ennis lathered his hands and washed him, humming tunelessly, barely audible over the water.

Jack smiled as Ennis paid particular attention to certain areas. "I think you got that clean by now," he said, grinning to himself.

"No harm in makin' sure," Ennis said, turning Jack back around. Jack slid his hands up Ennis's chest and kissed him again, pulling him closer, feeling his erection pressing into Jack's hip.

"Might think you was enjoyin' this," Jack said into his mouth.

"Jus' what you do ta me, boy." Ennis smoothed Jack's wet hair back from his face, staring down at him with a look in his eyes that made Jack's stomach do strange things. "You have a good Christmas, rodeo?" he asked, quietly.

Jack nodded. "Mighty fine. Nice that it weren't jus' you 'n me."

Ennis shrugged. "Ain't nothin' wrong with jus' you 'n me."

"In here, sure. Holidays are s'posed ta be for family." He sighed. "You 'n yours are the only family I got left, Ennis."

Ennis hesitated. "Think you oughta call your folks?"

"No," Jack said, quickly.

"Jack, they're all alone out there…"

"It's his doin' they're alone." He met Ennis's eyes again, letting his mouth curl into a smirk. "Now, you gonna stand there flappin' your lips all day, or are you gonna take care a your man here?" he asked, seizing Ennis's hand and placing it on his own erection. "I been standin' here waitin' for you t'get to it. What's the holdup, lover?"

As he expected, he saw Ennis's eyes cloud with desire. "No holdup at all," Ennis rumbled, seizing him.


	13. Chapter 13

"Should I dress up?" Junior called from her room.

Liz crossed the hall to stand in her doorway. "Well, Jack said he was going to wear a jacket. I didn't know he owned one."

"I guess I better wear something nice." Junior pulled a dress out of her closet, looked at it, then made a face and tossed it aside. Liz watched with amusement as this procedure was repeated on dress after dress. "I hate all my clothes!" Junior finally exclaimed.

"Why are you so concerned? It's not an audition. You'll know almost everyone there."

"I know, it's just…" Junior sighed. "It's my first real grown-up party, you know? Where there wasn't a kids' table? I wanna look like a grown-up." She blew air through her teeth. "What are you wearing?"

"My black skirt and my red sweater with the sparkles. Seemed holiday-ish."

Junior shook her head. "I don't have anything holiday-ish."

"Well, that isn't a requirement."

"This one's too girly, this one's too plain, this one fits me weird, this one's too long…"

"You can borrow something of mine if you want."

Junior considered this. "How about that white angora sweater with the cowl neck? I could wear my tan suede skirt with it."

"Sure." Liz ducked into her room and pulled the requested sweater out of her closet. Junior had the skirt out when she returned; Liz held the sweater up to it. "Oh, that looks nice."

Junior sighed. "What a relief. And I can wear my brown knee boots, too! I never get to wear those."

Liz went back to her room, chuckling, wondering which shoes _she_ ought to wear. She'd been planning to wear her own black knee boots, but if she did, she and Junior would be wearing almost the same exact outfit, except in different colors. She stared at her shoe rack. Pumps or flats?

"So, you guys go to this party every year?" Junior said.

"Uh…this is my first Christmas here, same as you," Liz said.

"Damn. I keep forgetting you haven't lived here much longer'n me," Junior said. "Seems like you've been here forever."

"Your dad says the same thing. But to answer your question, I know they've gone most every year since they moved here."

"Will Peter be there?"

"He said he would be."

Junior appeared in her doorway and struck a pose. "How's that?"

Liz grinned. "That looks great, Junior. Very…grown-up."

She nodded. "Thank God. I didn't want to have to show up at the Linebecks' in my sailor dress from sophomore year. I'm going up to the house, are you coming?"

"I'm going to take a quick shower."

"You took one before we left for Fred and Arlene's!"

"I want to get my hair wet. I'll be up soon."

"Okay. But you know Daddy don't like to be kept waiting."

"Huh. No wonder women aren't to his taste."

* * *

Jack was sitting at the kitchen counter drinking a cup of coffee when Junior came in the backdoor, her overcoat over her arm. "Well now, don't you look pretty?" he said, grinning. "Where's Lizzie?" 

"She'll be up in a bit. Doing her hair, I think. Where's Daddy?"

"Where ya think? He's sittin' out in the car with the engine runnin'. Y'know. Warmin' it up for the girls," Jack said, delivering this last in an eerily accurate imitation of Ennis' low-pitched rumble.

Junior chuckled. "He could just start the car and then come back in the house."

"Yeah, but that would take away his ability to be all irritable that he sat in the car waitin' on us." Jack shook his head. "Like as not drop dead a carbon monoxide poisoning."

"You look nice," Junior said. He was wearing jeans, a blue denim shirt and a camel-colored corduroy sportcoat.

He glanced down at himself. "Thanks. I never know what to put with what."

"Just wear blue all the time. Makes your eyes stand out."

Jack looked at her, a slow smile sneaking onto his face. "Does it, now?"

"Not that I've been lookin' at…or that I've…oh hell," she said, flushing.

"I'm just teasin' you, darlin'," he said, nudging her with his elbow. "Lizzie says the same thing."

They sat in silence for a few beats. "Jack?"

"Hmmm?"

"I, uh…never really asked you how things went with you and Mamma."

He hesitated. "Better'n I expected."

"When I was drivin' her to the airport, I asked her the same thing, and you know what she said?"

"What?" Jack asked, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows.

"She said 'I guess it could be worse.'"

Jack laughed out loud. "Is that so?"

"Comin' from her, I think we can call that high praise."

"No shit." He sighed. "We got some stuff out. Stuff she needed t'say, and I deserved t'hear, and vice versa."

"I don't like it that she's so harsh on you, but at the same time…I understand. Was a time I felt that way myself."

"I know. Neither you nor your mamma gotta apologize t'me for anything."

She reached out and patted his hand. "Maybe if we give her a few years she'll come round."

He smiled. "That'll be a cold day in hell, darlin'. But I thank you for the sentiment." He was looking at her with the oddest expression on his face.

She shifted, feeling her cheeks warming. "What?"

"I guess I ain't never said this, but havin' you here's been a help ta me. Y'know…with Bobby'n all." He seemed embarrassed and cut his eyes away. "Let me feel like maybe I'm still a dad, a little bit." He met her eyes again. "You're a real blessin' ta me, y'know?"

Junior squeezed his hand. "I know it's been hard for you these past few days."

He nodded. "Got a lot harder all of a sudden. Cain't say why."

"Well…I don't know how I'm helping, but if I am, I'm glad."

The front door opened and they both heard Ennis's stomping footsteps. He appeared in the kitchen, glowering. "Are we ever leavin', or you reckon we're just gonna wait for next year's party?"

"We're waitin' on Lizzie. Calm down, take a seat," Jack said.

Ennis ignored him and instead strode to the window and looked out towards the bungalow, grumbling. "Fuckin' hate bein' late."

"It's a party, it ain't like we gotta be there right on the dot. Folks always drift in and out, you know that."

Ennis turned around and seemed to see Junior for the first time. His expression softened a little. "You're lookin' awful pretty, darlin'," he said.

"Thanks, sugarbear," Jack said, winking sidelong at Junior.

She giggled while Ennis cocked an eyebrow at him. "Was talkin' ta my daughter there, numbnuts," he said, though his eyes were twinkling.

"Aw, you sayin' you don't think I look pretty?"

Ennis shook his head. "Aw, no. I ain't inflatin' your ego any more'n it already is."

The back door opened and Liz entered, looking a little rushed. "Sorry," she gasped out. "I didn't mean to hold everyone up."

"Well, let's go, if we're all gussied up sufficient," Ennis said, herding everyone towards the living room. Junior, bringing up the rear, saw him lean in towards Jack, one hand on his back. "Y'know y'always look pretty ta me," she heard him murmur in Jack's ear.

* * *

Ennis had, by necessity, become somewhat accustomed to attending parties. He didn't think he'd ever feel truly at ease at one, especially one where there were folks he didn't know, but at least he didn't hide in a corner with a beer anymore.

The Linebecks' Christmas Night party, as always, was a hubbub of activity and merriment that swirled around him like chaff in the stables during a good sweeping. The house was stuffed with at least fifty people, milling about in the kitchen, the living room, the downstairs rec room and anywhere else they'd fit. Jack, always ready with a glad-hand, was busily chatting people up. Liz was leading Junior around, making sure she'd met everyone.

Ennis was standing near the drinks table with Rory and Gus Flaubert, not saying much and trying to keep a wall at his back. Martha had beer in some ice-filled tubs, egg nog, and some kind of fruity punch that smelled like a lollipop to Ennis. He took another sip of his beer, wishing for something stronger. His eyes were drawn to Jack, across the room talking with Pastor Greenfield and someone Ennis didn't know. It gave him a quick proprietary shiver to remember that even though he was way over there, Jack was his, and everybody here knew it. As if he could sense the eyes on him, Jack glanced over and winked when he saw Ennis looking. Ennis felt his lip curl in a half-smile in spite of himself.

"Hey Roger, it's your turn!" somebody yelled. Catcalls and cheers pursued poor Roger McPherson, a teacher at the high school whom Ennis knew vaguely, as he was browbeaten over to the mistletoe with his wife. Ennis's smile faded as they exchanged a quick kiss, blushing and fending off the cheerful jibes. It wasn't a fitting spectacle for people purporting to be grownups, to his way of thinking. What was next, a game of spin-the-bottle? His irritation, he knew, was due in no small part to the fact that eventually some smart-ass would be calling _his_ name, just to get his goat. Everybody present knew damned well he wouldn't be caught dead kissing Jack under that mistletoe.

_Why not?_ a voice asked in his head, an insistent little voice that had begun to speak to him round about the time of Jack's encounter with a two-by-four. _Everyone here knows. What're you afraid of? Somebody takin' offense? If they're gonna, they're gonna, and it ain't your problem._

Grant came up to the table for a refill on egg now. "What're you doing, Ennis? Guarding the beer? Mingle a little!"

Ennis snorted. "You got anything stronger?" he said, wiggling his beer bottle.

"Sure. Got some whiskey in the bar downstairs. Pretty decent stuff. Help yourself."

"Thanks." Ennis drained the bottle and headed for the stairs, tossing his empty into the trashcan as he passed. There weren't as many people down here in the rec room; Ennis made a beeline for the wet bar in the corner. He went around to the back and knelt down, opening the cabinets under the sink in search of something stronger than Rolling Rock.

He had his head half inside the cabinet when he heard voices above him, at the bar. Two men's voices that he didn't recognize.

"You got here late," one of them said.

"Dinner at my mother-in-law's house. Was kind of hoping we'd skip this altogether," said the second one.

"Thought you liked Grant."

"Sure, he's all right. It's just…" The second man dropped his voice a little. "Every time I come to one of their parties, I know I'm gonna have to make nice with the town fags."

Ennis froze, staying where he was, whiskey forgotten.

The first man grunted sympathetically. "I know what you mean. You know they go to the same bank we do? Half the time I have to see one or the other of 'em when I go in to make a withdrawal."

"I can't believe they let those FFA kids work out at that ranch."

"I know. What if one of them…did something to one a them high school boys?"

"The one's daughter lives out there now, you know."

"No shit."

"Yeah. She goes to CCV up Burlington. What kinda mother lets her daughter live with fags?"

"Frank says he seen them holding hands in church."

The second man clucked in disgust. "I don't know how they fuckin' dare. In _church?_"

There was a pause. "Did you hear that the one got beat last summer? Was in the hospital a couple of days."

The second man grunted. "Well…that's unfortunate. Still, can't help but feel they're asking for it. I just don't want to know anything about it, or have to see it. Knew I'd have to if Sheila made me come to this party."

Ennis had heard enough. He grabbed the first bottle of whiskey his fingers touched, and stood up.

It was almost worth having overheard this unsuspected casual bigotry to see the horrified looks on the pasty faces of the men who'd just been insulting him. The color fell out of their ruddy cheeks and their eyes widened.

Ennis said nothing, he just stood there for a moment, aiming his best icy stare at them. He slowly walked out from behind the bar and faced them. "Either a you fellas got somethin' t'say ta me?" he growled, snipping off his words like bites of a carrot.

The first man, a tall one with a pale insurance-salesman sort of face, shook his head. "No," he squeaked.

"'Cause it sure sounded like you had plenty ta say behind my back." The men just stared off into space silently, their jaws clenching. Ennis shook his head. "We're done," he said, then turned and went up the stairs.

He just wanted to get out. Get as far from this house as possible. He'd always felt safe here, or relatively so. Grant and Martha were their friends, and it had seemed reasonable to think that anyone in their house was friendly, too. He looked around, every face suddenly a strange one, every voice unfamiliar. How did he know what feelings these people were keeping locked up behind those holiday jolly-time expressions?

"Hey, Ennis!" _Fuckin' Fred, I mighta known,_ Ennis thought. Fred Trimble, his face flushed from however many beers he'd had, was pushing his way through the crowd towards him. "It's your turn in the hot seat!" he laughed, pointing to the mistletoe. A few other voices joined in. Ennis caught a glimpse of Jack, over by the fireplace, rolling his eyes with tension set in his jaw. He knew Ennis hated this.

In years past, Ennis had just grumbled and glowered and ignored them, and after a few minutes of teasing, it was always dropped.

A lot had happened since last Christmas.

Ennis took a swig of whiskey, feeling closed in. Was there a fucking bullseye on his forehead? He slammed the bottle down on the drinks table and stomped towards the front door, thinking about getting some air. He could sense the laughter and cheers dying out in his wake, replaced by shocked mutterings. Grant stopped him, frowning. "Ennis, what's wrong? We're just teasing you. We do it every year!"

Ennis whirled to face the group. "You all think it's so damned funny, don't you?" he bit out. "Mistletoe-kissin' like we're all in junior high!"

"We make everybody do it," Grant said, slapping him on the back, still trying to salvage the usual jocularity.

Ennis shook his head, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Jack was gaping at him, open-mouthed. "You wouldn't try'n make me do it if you thought I actually would. You only get after me 'cause you know it's…safe." Righteous anger was rising in his chest. "Well, ta hell with that," he growled. He crossed the living room in two steps, reached out and seized Jack by the hand.

"Ennis, what the hell…" Jack managed.

Ennis pulled him to the doorway where the mistletoe was hanging. Everyone was staring. How many of them were cringing? How many would avert their eyes? He wanted to rub it in all of their faces, he wanted to stand on the coffee table and shout _This is my man and if that's disgustin' ta anyone here then I don't give a good goddamn._

He didn't, of course. What he did do was pull Jack into his arms and kiss him. Not a chaste little peck, but a kiss with some purpose behind it. Jack was too surprised to do more than stand there and take it, and Ennis released him before he could react.

Ennis looked around at the partygoers. He could see a few wide, shocked eyes. There were a few disgusted faces. A few people were looking away and whispering urgently to each other. Most of the faces he saw just looked surprised…except Marty, who was beaming a triumphant smile and tilting her chin around at everyone as if to say "Take that, suckers."

He nodded, stepping away from Jack, who was still standing there open-mouthed like he was trying to catch flies. "Okay," he said, the anger rapidly leaking out of him. He glanced around. "So…there ya go." He sagged a little, wondering who, exactly, he was mad at. "Sorry if I sounded sharp before," he said.

Grant took a step forward. "Ennis…I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable. We just didn't want you to feel left out, or like you were different, so we teased you like we do everybody."

Ennis looked at Jack, feeling helpless and tongue-tied. Jack sighed, and seemed to have regained his composure. "We _are_ different, Grant," he said, quietly. "And if anyone's uncomfortable, we know it's probably us what makes 'em so." A ripple of dissenting murmurs ran over the party. "No, it's all right. I think what gets to Ennis and me is always wonderin' if folks are just pretending to be okay, when inside they're judgin' us. We'd just as soon know the truth. Leastways then we'd know who we could feel free around." Jack reached out and took Ennis's hand. "Didn't mean ta bring everyone down," he said. "We'll go, then."

A number of people spoke out at once then, urging them not to go. Ennis held up a hand. "S'alright," he said. "I ain't exactly in the partyin' mood no more. But…thank you for askin'. We'll be seein' ya."

* * *

Jack pulled Ennis towards the door. He caught Lizzie's eye as she stood near the kitchen; she made a few quick gestures indicating that she and Junior would catch a ride home. He nodded gratefully.

They left on a tide of good-byes and see-you-laters. They didn't speak until they got into the car. Jack, in the driver's seat, turned and faced Ennis. "Okay, what the hell was all that?"

Ennis had his arms crossed over his chest. "I heard a couple a guys downstairs sayin' how they cain't stand seein' us, and how they think we're perverts." He lifted his chin and set his jaw. "I'm so fuckin' sick of it, Jack. I ain't stand around and take it quiet no more."

"So you think laying a big wet one on me in Grant and Marty's living room is the way to go about fixin' it?"

He turned his head and met Jack's eyes. "I didn't know what else ta do."

Jack chuckled. "Well, whatever else, it sure gave me a thrill."

The corner of Ennis's mouth twitched. "Yeah?"

"Ennis, you just did what I been wishin' for a long time. You just kissed me in front a fifty God-fearin' people, you realize that?" He grinned at the look of mild horror that came into Ennis's eyes. "Relax, cowboy. Even if a few a them folks think it's disgustin', I doubt any a them got tire irons warmin' up at home."

Ennis sobered. "Don't even joke about that. That ain't nice."

Jack nodded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't." He started up the car and pulled out onto Country Trunk H, headed towards home.

Ennis rubbed a hand over his face. "Christ, what if I pissed someone off in there? What if somebody was just gonna let it lie and now I done riled 'em up, and they decide they gotta do somethin'?"

"Now you're just bein' paranoid."

He shook his head. "Don't talk ta me like I'm a child," he said, an edge coming into his voice. "Y'know how it scares me ta think a somethin' happening ta you."

"Ain't you scared for yourself?"

Ennis didn't seem to have heard him. "I guess it's too late now."

"That's for fuckin' sure."

Nothing was said for a few moments. "Sorry I just grabbed you like that," Ennis finally muttered. "You ain't my personal property."

"Did you hear me complainin'?" Jack replayed the incident in his head, seeing all those faces turned towards them again. He chuckled. "Well, I think you mighta taken a few years offa old Mrs. Henry's life."

Ennis tried and failed to keep from smirking. "Bout damned time. I guess that means she's only the same age as God now."

"Marty looked mighty pleased."

"I bet. You know she's got some kinda big swoony romantic idea 'bout us in her head. She'd'a ate it right up."

"Look on the bright side."

"What's that?"

"At least everyone'll have another story ta tell besides that damned Labor Day punch-out story."

* * *

Jack followed Ennis into the house, but didn't let him get far. As soon as Ennis had his coat off, Jack grabbed his arm and spun him back against the living-room wall. "My turn ta grab," he murmured, sliding his hands down Ennis's back to seize a couple of handfuls of his ass. "You got a problem with that?"

Ennis shook his head, his eyes clouding over with desire. "Not s'long as I get ta grab back."

They pushed and pulled all the way to the bedroom, shedding clothes as they went, until Jack shoved Ennis backwards onto the bed. "Sure hope no one noticed me fillin' out my jeans when you kissed me under that mistletoe," he said, crawling over him.

Ennis grasped Jack's erection. "Want me some a this tonight," he said, eyes dark and cheeks flushed.

Jack drew back slightly. "Yeah?"

Ennis nodded. "C'mere," he said, pulling Jack down to him. Jack sealed his mouth over Ennis's, feeling his hands all over his back as they slipped and slid against each other, pulling and shifting themselves on the bed so they were lying on it properly. Jack moved down to Ennis's neck, where he'd long ago mapped out all the sensitive spots. "Gonna gimme a hickey," Ennis grumbled.

"Good," Jack said. "And if I do, you gonna show it ta everybody so they all know you're mine."

He felt Ennis shiver, then slip his hands under Jack's arms and haul him back up to kiss him again. "You drive me fuckin' crazy," he said, the words half-lost in Jack's mouth. He flung a hand to the nightstand and fumbled in the top drawer, handing the tube to Jack.

"You're sure in a hurry tonight," Jack said, rearing back onto his knees between Ennis's thighs.

Ennis just nodded, his hands roaming all over Jack's chest and stomach. "Just want ya," he said, half under his breath as if he didn't want to be overheard.

Jack leaned down and kissed him, teasing his mouth open with his tongue and keeping after him until he had to let him go to breathe. "Say it like ya mean it, lover."

Ennis smirked, emboldened. "I want ya, Jack. Always have, 'n always will."

Jack pushed Ennis's knees back and slid into him. Ennis's neck arched and a groan tore from his throat, his hands flying out to either side to grab at the sheets. Jack leaned forward over his chest, planting his own knees outside Ennis's hips. His body wanted to thrust, but he held back. "Even when I'm old 'n gray and my ass starts ta sag?" he whispered.

Ennis choked out a few short barks of laughter. "Yer ass'll be saggin' now if you don't get to it," he said, his voice sounding a little strangled.

Jack braced himself on his hands and let himself go, putting his head down and doing his best to give Ennis what he'd asked for. He felt Ennis wrap his long legs around his chest and pushed deeper, trying to find that place he was always looking for and hadn't found yet, that place where they wouldn't be two people anymore but one body and one person, him and Ennis, melted together so they couldn't be separated. He lifted his head and looked into Ennis's eyes, half-closed and fixed on his face, sweat rising on his forehead and darkening his blond hair.

"Jack…" Ennis groaned, lifting one hand to the back of Jack's head and grabbing a handful of hair. Jack couldn't take his eyes off Ennis's face. He looked…surrendered. It was a face Jack knew that only he saw. Ennis made himself vulnerable to no one else, and if he'd never been able to see his way clear to saying those three words to Jack, he'd have known Ennis loved him anyway because of it.

Jack raised himself up again and took Ennis's cock in his hand, pumping it and trying to time it so they could come together, a feat they'd never found easy to achieve. Ennis held on to his forearms for leverage as he pushed back at him, biting his lip and holding Jack's gaze. "Y'almost there, baby?" Jack murmured. Ennis could only nod. Jack did his best, but Ennis still beat him to it. He cried out Jack's name, swore a couple of times, and shot all over his own stomach. Jack sighed inwardly…_better luck next time_…and thrust hard a few more times until he was there himself, holding tight against Ennis and grunting while it took him over, tightening every muscle and whitening his vision. He collapsed into Ennis's arms, their sweat and semen mingling in that familiar post-coital warm dampness. "Damn," he said into Ennis's neck.

"Damn is right," Ennis said, his chest still heaving with quickened breath. They laid there holding each other until their pulses had returned to normal. Jack hitched himself up and slid half off Ennis, one leg and one arm still thrown across his man's body. "Shit," Ennis said, arming sweat off his forehead. "Wonder what them guys at the party'd be thinkin' if they saw that?"

Jack chuckled. "They'd be thinkin, 'Damn, it ain't like that with the wife, maybe I oughta try it out and see what a man's like in bed.'"

Ennis rumbled quiet laughter deep in his chest. "If they did, they'd never go back. Cain't start having everyone turnin' queer, can we?"

Jack snuggled a little closer. "Well, my man's fine enough to turn anyone queer. They cain't have ya, though. I got dibs."

Ennis shook his head. "_I'm_ fine enough? Darlin', you could turn the Pope queer."


	14. Chapter 14

The door had barely closed behind Ennis and Jack before people were crowding up to Liz.

"Are they okay?"

"What was that all about?"

"Are they mad?"

"Will they come back?"

Liz held up her hands. "Guys, please. It'll be okay. Sometimes they just need some space, Ennis in particular. You know how he is."

Fred was shaking his head. "I'm awful sorry if I embarrassed them," he said, looking morose. "I just wanted them to feel like part of the group, you know?"

Liz sighed. "That's admirable, Fred, but don't you see? When you make a big deal out of it, you're just calling attention to the fact that there's a reason why they might _not_ feel like part of the group." Fred frowned. She wasn't sure he was following her logic. "Don't worry about it."

Junior came hurrying up from wherever she'd been to grasp Liz's arm, her eyes wide. "Ohmygod, Lizzie, did you see?"

"I saw."

"Where'd Daddy and Jack go?"

"They left, honey. Don't worry, we'll catch a ride home."

"But…they just up and _left?_"

"I imagine they were a little unsure if they'd still be welcome here."

Junior sobered. "I heard someone say…something mean. When they kissed."

Liz nodded. "I'm not surprised."

"Just one person, though. Some other person made an 'aww' kind of noise."

"I hope this doesn't hurt them in the long run," Liz said, looking around. The party seemed to be resuming its natural flow. No one looked scandalized or horrified. No one was leaving early in an offended huff. Maybe that was a good sign. "They've always been so reserved in public for fear of the reaction."

"Why d'you think Daddy did that? Why'd he say those things? It isn't like him."

"No, it isn't. I can only think something must have happened to set him off. Maybe he'll tell us later."

Marty came bustling up, still grinning. "Well, Liz! Score one point for gay visibility!"

Liz shook her head. "I wish I could be as jubilant as you, Marty."

"Why not? They kissed, no one burst into flames or went off on an angry tirade."

"Just because no one's breaking out the tar and feathers doesn't mean no one's upset, or that there won't be consequences."

"Damn the consequences! They shouldn't have to hide, not when everyone else can kiss free and open!"

"That's easy for you to say," Liz said, annoyance creeping up her neck like a flush. "It isn't your consequences, your life and business, on the line!"

"It'll be fine, Liz," Marty said, sobering a little. "Look around."

"Yeah. I see a lot of faces that could be hiding all kinds of bad feelings and we'd never know until it was too late and someone's painted 'FAGGOTS' on the side of their barn…or worse."

Marty cleared her throat, cutting her eyes to Junior for a moment. Liz saw her wide, scared eyes and wished she'd thought before speaking. "Don't worry, Junior," she said, putting her arm around the girl's shoulder. "I'm sure everything will be fine. It isn't as if everyone here didn't know that your dad and Jack are gay. Most of them were at the party last summer. It's just kind of my job to worry, but I don't want you to worry, okay?"

Junior looked a little reassured. "Okay." She put on a smile. "I'm gonna go find Pastor Greenfield. Was thinking about maybe joining the choir at church."

"Go ahead. I'll find Peter, see if he can give us a lift home." She watched as Junior disappeared into the party crowd again, then turned back to Marty. "Listen, keep your ears open. Grant too, and anyone else you're sure about. If there's any talk circulating, or any bad feelings coming out, I want to know about it. Don't tell the guys, let me handle it."

Marty nodded. "Ennis is going to be one giant bundle of nerves after this, isn't he?"

"No one can flagellate themselves like he can, that's for sure."

Marty glanced at the mistletoe, then back at Liz. "Still…that was some kiss, wasn't it?"

Liz smiled. "I've seen them do better."

* * *

Jack woke up to the gray early-morning half-light, nature calling urgently. He got out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. His face was rosy with stubble burn and he had a hickey at his collarbone, one of Ennis's favorite spots. They'd gone at it like horny teenagers all night, collapsing in a heap only long enough to catch their breath, cuddle a while, then start kissing and getting revved up to go again.

He wondered if the act of kissing him in front of people had gotten Ennis's blood up. Lord knew it had for him. He hadn't known what to expect when Ennis had grabbed his hand and led him to the mistletoe. He'd been too distracted with astonishment at the things Ennis was saying; when he'd felt himself seized and kissed it had been a near-total surprise. He'd gone boneless with shock, Ennis's lips insistent upon his for an intense but all-too-brief extremely public display of affection. It hadn't been the sort of kiss he preferred, being rather closed-mouthed and forceful, but the circumstances had sure raised his blood pressure a few points.

He was just climbing back into bed, the warm sheets reaching up to cradle his shivering body, when he jumped a little to see Ennis's eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. He was lying on his back, straight and proper as a corpse, his unblinking gaze fixed upwards. "Christ, Ennis," Jack muttered, crawling between the sheets. "You scared the life outta me."

He saw Ennis's chest rise and fall in a quiet sigh. "What the fuck'd I do last night, Jack? I cain't believe it. What got inta me?"

"I dunno. You were sick a livin your life so's not to offend some small-minded bigots. I know the feelin."

"Them small-minded bigots could make our lives real difficult, y'know. It ain't like me kissin' you is gonna change how they feel. All it can do it piss 'em off." He shook his head. "This place been good to us. Feel safe here. What if I ruined that now?" He turned his head and met Jack's eyes. "You know I still see them tire irons in my sleep, darlin'. Comin' for me, comin' for Junior, comin' for our house and our business. Comin' for you."

"No one's comin'." Jack snuggled close to his side, slipping one arm and one leg around him. "Except me, last night, a whole bunch a times." He kissed Ennis's neck, warm and soft with sleep. "C'mon, cowboy. Lighten up on me here. Them folks was all friends a Grant and Marty's. Y'think they'd have anyone like Forrester in their house? So some of em don't care for us. They ain't gonna come round with torches n pitchforks. They're decent folks, ain't gonna get violent."

Ennis looked like he wanted to be convinced. "Ya really think…it'll be okay?"

"I really do. Look, we've talked about this before, 'cept last time it was you reassurin' me. We cain't tell folks what t'think or feel in their own heads. It's how they act. Forrester was a grade-A nutbag and cared more about riddin' the world a queers than his own hide. No one around here's gonna chance goin' ta jail, or lookin' like a hatemonger, just cause you kissed me under that mistletoe."

"But I do worry bout what folks think in their own heads. Cain't never be sure anyone's okay."

"It don't exactly make me feel all warm n fuzzy, but we gotta trust our friends. Gotta trust somebody." He nudged him. "Didja catch Marty's face? She was beamin like she just won the lottery."

The corner of Ennis's mouth quirked up in the beginnings of a smile. "Yeah?"

"Oh yeah. Looked like she wanted you ta maybe take it a little further, if ya know what I mean."

Ennis snorted. "Well, I'll have t'apologize ta her that I didn't think it fittin' ta get down on my knees and suck y'off right there."

Jack laughed. "She thinks we're cute."

"Cute, huh?" Ennis growled, like the word was an affront. "Cute?" He rolled onto his side, pushing Jack onto his back and thrusting his hand down Jack's pajama pants. "I'll show ya cute."

"Christ," Jack moaned, Ennis's fingers working him over in a familiar, practiced rhythm, his hips rolling on the bed. "Ain't you get enough last night? I'm gonna be walkin' funny for a week." _But you better not fuckin' stop._

"Cain't never get enough a you. Not ever," Ennis said, kissing him fiercely, one hand behind his neck, pulling Jack's head up off the pillow. Jack wound his arms around Ennis's shoulders, then pushed him back over and crawled on top, seizing Ennis's wrists and pinning them to the mattress. He drew back a little, Ennis's neck arching as he tried to follow Jack's mouth with his own. When he found out he couldn't reach, he let his head fall back, staring up into Jack's eyes. "Got me right where ya want me, rodeo."

Jack nodded. "Yep. Where I always wanted ya. In our own bed in our own home. And ain't nothin' gonna mess it up, Ennis. I fuckin' swear. Ya hear me?"

Ennis sighed. "You cain't swear that."

"I just did. Meant it, too. Don't you worry none. I'll take care a you, and everythin we built here." _I'll take care a you like I didn't take care a Bobby. Cause you're fuckin' everything ta me, Ennis, and I cain't lose you like I lost him._

Ennis drew a shaky breath, tears gathering at his eyelids. "No one ever…wanted ta take care a me. Not never." 

"That's why you always think you gotta do it for everybody. Junior, and Liz, and the whole damned farm, and a course me. I can do it too, y'know."

He nodded. "I wouldn't trust no one else ta do it." He smiled, a small, sad, and still anxious smile. "Now c'mere, baby."

Jack released his wrists and sat back on Ennis's thighs, drawing Ennis up with him and letting himself be enfolded. He wrapped his legs around Ennis's hips and felt Ennis fold up his own legs Indian-style, so Jack's ass slipped more comfortably into his lap. They sat like that, wrapped around each other, quietly nuzzling at each other's faces, until Jack could feel Ennis growing hard against him, his own arousal trapped against Ennis's flat stomach. He relaxed into Ennis's arms as he was laid out and unwrapped, like a Christmas present kept back to open the day after, just to stretch out the surprise.

* * *

The next morning, Liz didn't make it to the main house until almost eleven. Peter had driven them home just after midnight. Junior had been exhausted, and more than a little tipsy; she'd gone straight into her room and collapsed. Liz had not been ready to call it a night just yet, and she'd drawn Peter into her room and had her way with him for awhile before he'd finally pled morning clinic duty, grinning, and had reluctantly gone home to his own bed.

She smiled as she remembered the evening spent with him, but hesitated when she recalled her conversation with Jack the previous morning. _Am I just using the guy for convenient companionship?_ That was an unpleasant, unflattering thought. _Am I just using him for sex?_ That was an even more unpleasant, even less flattering thought. _Am I just using him as a substitute for Jack?_ That was a really troubling thought.

Liz had spent some time on introspection on this topic, and she was confident that her crush on Jack had passed naturally, and was no longer an issue for her. _What if I'm in denial? What if I'm so desperately in love with him that I've buried it deep in my subconscious to escape the pain of its impossibility?_ She stopped on the path to the house, holding her coat around her, frowning. She didn't think she was in denial. _But how the hell am I supposed to know if I'm in deep denial? Isn't that the point of denial? That I don't know?_

_Maybe I'm just dating Peter because…he's there. He wants to date me, I have no objections, so there you go. So that means, what? That he's a way to pass the time on a Saturday night?_ That wasn't true. She looked forward to their time together. Lately, she'd been wanting more of it. She'd been thinking that she wanted to ask him if they could go away somewhere together, maybe for a long weekend, maybe for a whole week. Would she be so keen on that idea if he was just a handy date to stave off the rural boredom?

She came in the back door of the house, shaking the snow from her hair and vowing to shelve the topic for later consideration. Jack and Ennis were at the sink…well, to be more accurate, _Jack_ was at the sink, washing what looked like breakfast dishes, and Ennis was cozied up to his back, nibbling at Jack's neck and doing what looked like his best to distract him from the dishes. "Cut that out, now," Jack was saying. "You want a faceful of suds?"

"Mmm, sounds fun," Ennis purred into Jack's ear. Liz grinned. Ennis, usually so gruff and mumbly, sometimes put on a low, sexy rumble of a voice that he used with Jack and that zinged straight to Liz's spinal column on the few occasions she'd overheard it. It seemed to have a similar effect on Jack, no doubt by design.

"You two want to be alone?" she said. "I can leave."

Ennis sprang back, turning red. Jack chuckled. "Nah, we're good. Glad you're here, Lizzie. If he was gonna go at me again I might have had to go on IV fluids."

"Jack!" Ennis hissed, turning even redder.

"What? Oh, for Christ's sake. Lizzie knows we have sex, you old prude."

"That's true. I do know it." She took off her coat and hung it by the back door.

Ennis sat down at the counter. "So…what happened at the party after we left?" he asked. Liz wondered if it was a subject change borne from interest, or desperation. Probably both.

Liz shrugged. "Not a whole lot. Mostly people were afraid you guys were mad. Fred apologized for embarrassing you."

"No one…said nothin'? Nothin' bad?"

"I didn't hear anything, but then again, if they had bad things to say they'd hardly do so in front of me. Junior said she heard a comment when you kissed. I'm sure there were a few floating around. I don't think you should be overly concerned. We were all keeping our ears to the ground, and aside from a few mutterings, no one heard anything to give us any alarm."

Ennis didn't look reassured. "Mutterings?"

"Yeah, mutterings. Look, you can't expect _no_ reaction. A few people were overheard saying that they'd prefer it if you refrained from doing that kind of thing in public."

"Oh yeah?" Jack said, turning from the sink, his face dark. "Betcha they didn't say that to any of the dozen people who kissed their non-queer spouses under that mistletoe."

"I didn't say they were _right._ But if that's the strongest reaction you get than I think you're in the clear." She took the barstool next to Ennis and laid a hand on his arm. "Ennis, I know you're probably beating yourself up about this, but most of the people there weren't bothered by it. Those people are your friends, and Grant and Marty's friends, and you know they pick their friends with care. What bothered them most was the idea that you and Jack don't feel free in company. I heard a few people say that they were glad to see you act like everyone else, even if you were a little…upset when you did it." Ennis nodded, some of the tension leaving his posture. "What did upset you, if I can ask?"

"Oh, yeah." He cleared his throat. "Just overheard a coupla guys downstairs talkin' about havin ta make nice with the town fags. Makin digs at us. Sayin Junior ought not t'live here, sayin we might make passes at them FFA boys."

"The usual homophobic crap, in other words."

"I guess. Jus…made me want ta rub their faces in it. Got me all riled up. The things they was sayin'…made me think if it's folks like them that I'm tryin' not ta bother, then maybe they ain't worth havin' their fuckin' feelins spared."

Liz rubbed Ennis's shoulder. "The people who really care about you and know you won't care if you hold Jack's hand, or even kiss him, in their sight."

He smiled ruefully. "Ain't so easy undoin a lifetime a hidin and bein scared."

"You've come a long way."

"Liz, you got no idea how far he's come," Jack murmured, joining them at the counter. "You shoulda seen his face the first time I suggested ranchin up together."

"When was that?"

"1967. You'da thought I'd suggested we move to New York and become go-go dancers."

* * *

Jack was in the office, trying to follow Liz's directions on how to work the new computer, when the phone rang. "Y'ello," he said, distracted.

No one spoke. Jack sat back. "Hello?" he repeated, with a little more emphasis.

"That you, Jack?"

Jack shut his eyes. This shit he did not need. "Hello, Dad. Call to wish us a merry Christmas? You're two days late."

The elder Twist cleared his throat. "You, uh…have a nice holiday, there?" He sounded almost…friendly. Jack was immediately suspicious.

"Real fine, thanks. Ennis's ex-wife came ta visit." Let him make what he would of _that._

"Yeah? She, uh…visits?"

"Sure, all the time. We're all great pals. In fact, she sleeps in our bed while she's here, right between me n Ennis. What the hell, Dad? You keep callin' me outta the blue, sayin' nothin', and I'm sick a bein strung along. You ever gonna tell me what the hell's goin' on? Do I gotta fly out there and arm-wrestle it outta you?"

A long silence. "Jack…it's…aw, shit."

"Dad?" Jack frowned. His father sounded unsure of himself, even scared. That wasn't a tone Jack was used to hearing from Twist, Sr. _Somethin's wrong. Been wrong awhile. That's why he's been callin…he's been feelin me out. Workin up the courage t'ask for help._ "Just tell me." He took a breath. "You need money?"

"No!" his father exclaimed. "I ain't goin beggin from _you_, goddammit!"

"Okay, okay!"

"It's…" He heard his father heave a shaky sigh. "It's your Ma, Jack."

Jack gripped the arm of his chair, his fingers turning white. Coldness crept into his belly. "What about Ma?"

"She ain't well," his father said in a rush, the dam broken and the spillways overflowing. "Ain't been well for awhile. Started last spring. Started droppin' thing, forgettin' things…now she's getting these tremors when she sits still, like a palsy…shufflin when she walks…"

Jack kept his calm with effort. "Okay, slow down. You say this started last spring?"

"Yeah."

"What'd the doctor say?" Silence. "Dad…you have been to a doctor, right?"

"Maybe you and all your faggot money can go the doctor for every sniffle and tremble but round here it ain't so easy!" his father shouted.

Jack let the 'faggot' remark go by him. "For fuck's sake, Dad! If she's sick, she's gotta see a doctor! If you ain't got the money all you had ta do was call, I'd a paid for it!" He didn't need to ask why his father hadn't called. His stupid prairie pride, those heavy chains and shackles, had bound his father to do only what he could do on his own, on other words, nothing. He could no more have asked his faggot son for help than he could have decided to pay for a doctor by prostituting himself on the streets of Bozeman. So why now?

"I'm callin now, ain't I?"

"What made you? Huh? It get so bad she cain't cook and clean? Is that it? You sat by and did nothin' while she got sicker n sicker, but soon as it starts affecting _you_, then you call for help?" His father's silence only told Jack that he was right, as if he needed confirmation. "Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna wire you whatever money you need, and you're gonna take her to the doctor…"

"Old Doc Berenson says she gotta see some kinda special doc down in Gillette…that's two hours, Jack…"

"So? You get in the fuckin' truck and you…"

"Hafta stay a coupla days, maybe a week! I cain't leave the ranch untended!"

"So you hire some kid from town ta feed the stock…" Jack trailed it off. _I cain't trust him ta do this._ "Look, put Ma on the phone. Lemme talk ta her."

"She…cain't talk so good…"

A sob burst from Jack's throat and he sagged forward in his chair. _God, my Ma. I know I ain't done much for her, Lord, but…my Ma._ "You fuckin bastard, you let it get so bad she couldn't even _talk_ when you coulda gotten her some help months ago."

"Don't you fuckin lay no harsh words on me. If you weren't halfway across God knows where with your queer boyfriend you'da known how it was! You ain't called or been ta visit…"

"Yeah, like you made it clear how welcome I was ta visit when you waved that fuckin shotgun at me. And you don't get ta judge me," Jack hissed. "Not when you sat by n did nothin for your wife who only took care a you and stood by you for thirty miserable years in that miserable fuckin house, you son of a bitch." Jack stood up. "You know what? I ain't trustin you ta do nothin for her. I'm comin out there and you better fuckin be ready ta do whatever the hell I say, you got that?" Silence. "I said you _got that?_"

He heard his father sigh. "I guess you think you're all…"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Jack screamed, all self-control lost. "I am comin out there and I better not hear one rude word, one 'faggot' remark, or one tiny little mutter a discontent from you, because if you ain't man enough ta take care a my mother I guess I'll just do it my fuckin self!"

He slammed the phone down and stared at it, his chest heaving. He turned and leaned against the office wall, the plaster feeling cool against his heated forehead. He went out in the hall, half-expecting to see the whole household standing there and wondering what all the shouting was about, but he appeared to be alone in the house.

He rubbed at his eyes, wanting to cry but too distracted by everything he now had to do, wishing Ennis had mental telepathy or some kind of super-sense. _I need ya right now, cowboy. Cain't you just know that and appear outta thin air?_

* * *

Ennis held the stable door wide while Rod pounded the thick doorstop underneath with a rubber mallet. The farrier was coming that afternoon and he'd need to back up his truck close to the stable to get his anvil out. "Okay, now the other one," he said. He was moving to the other stable door when movement up at the house caught his eyes.

Jack was walking out onto the back porch, in his shirtsleeves. Ennis shook his head. _What's he doin' out there without no coat, he's gonna…_ He frowned. Something wasn't right. Jack just looked…wrong. Something about his posture, or the way he was holding his hands. He was just standing there by the railing, staring down towards the river. "S'cuse me a second, Rod," Ennis said, and headed up to the house.

He hadn't even made it up the porch steps before he knew that something was seriously wrong. "Jack?"

He turned. "Damn. Maybe you _do_ have mental telepathy."

"Saw you out here without no coat…what's goin' on?" He came closer and saw Jack's eyes, red and puffy. "You been cryin? What's wrong?" Jack wasn't saying anything, but his eyes were full of a scared, helpless expression that called to mind Junior when she'd woken up from a nightmare and needed Ennis to chase the monsters away from her bed. Ennis came closer and put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Yer scarin me, Jack. What is it?"

Jack sniffed and lowered his head. Ennis saw it coming and stepped forward, wrapping Jack up in his arms just as he fell into them. "Ennis…" he said in a choked voice.

"I'm here, darlin'. I gotcha." He held him tight, one hand on the back of Jack's head, waiting to find out what the hell was going on. "What on earth's the matter with ya? Cain't ya tell me?"

Jack drew back a little, pulling himself together. "It's my Ma, Ennis. She's…real sick." He sighed. "I gotta go to Lightning Flat. My dad ain't been doin' nothin about it, so I'm gonna make sure she's taken care of."

Ennis nodded. "A course you are."

"I gotta leave right away."

"Well, I'm goin' with."

"No, I think I better go alone."

"Jack…"

"Ennis…I'm gonna be awhile. At least a week. Maybe longer. You got the ranch t'look after."

"Christ, the boys can handle it…"

"I'm gonna be dealin' with my dad a lot, I'd rather do it alone. You got the calvin startin up any minute, you don't want the boys t'handle that, I know you don't."

Ennis pushed away his hurt. _Don't want me along. Okay…I guess._ "If you really don't want me ta go…"

Jack smiled a little and wiped his eyes. "S'nice a you ta offer."

"Don't like ta think a you havin ta deal with all this by yourself."

"I'll be easier in my mind if I know you're here takin care a things."

Ennis nodded, still unconvinced. "When you gonna leave?"

"First thing in the mornin." Jack pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Goddamn, why didn't I call her? I coulda taken care a her months ago…"

Ennis pulled Jack into his arms again. "You're takin care a her now, that's all you can do. You're steppin up, which is more'n I can say your dad's done."

Jack held onto him tightly. "I don't wanna go, but I gotta."

"I know."

He turned his head to the side, resting it on Ennis's shoulder, his nose pressed into Ennis's neck. "I'll fuckin miss you."

"Me too, darlin." Ennis sighed. "Me too."


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's Note: I've made a small stylistic change with this chapter. Through reading the fanfic of others, I've come to the attitude that using single apostrophes in dialect (as in readin' and writin') is not really necessary and even a little irritating. So I've stopped doing it. If you want to throw the NYT Style Manual at me, go right ahead._

* * *

Something was wrong, and Liz wished somebody would just spill, already, and spare them all the agony of pretending it was an ordinary meal. The four of them were sitting around the dinner table in heavy silence. Liz and Junior were trying to eat, but the mood was robbing both of them of their appetites. Ennis was putting on a good show and eating normally, but he wasn't looking around or talking. Jack wasn't even going through the motions. He was just sitting with his arms crossed on the edge of the table, staring into space.

It had been achingly clear when they sat down that something was up, but Jack had insisted they all have a normal dinner and that they could talk about it later. Liz's brain was tirelessly tossing out ideas for what could have gone wrong since she'd seen the guys two hours ago, when everything had been fine. _Did they get some kind of a threat? A bad reaction from what happened at the party? Did they have a fight about it?_ She hadn't heard them fighting, and the tension didn't seem to be the kind that they got when they were fighting. That tension, she knew. This was different.

Finally, Junior set down her fork and smacked her hand on the table, startling everyone. "Okay, I've had it. You tell us what's going on, right now."

Jack stared at her for a moment, then sighed. "All right." He cleared his throat and glanced at Ennis. "I'll be, uh…leavin for Lightning Flat in the morning."

Liz blinked. "Your parents' house?" _Dumb thing to say, who else does he know in Lightning Flat? Is there anyone else in Lightning Flat?_ "Did your dad call again?"

He nodded. "Last night. Finally admitted he's been callin' tryin' ta work up the nerve ta tell me that my ma's been sick. For awhile now."

"Sick? What's wrong with her?" Junior asked, concern on her face.

Jack shook his head. "I don't know. Dad says she's started droppin things, havin palsies when she ain't movin, kind a shufflin when she walks, now she's havin trouble talkin."

Liz's heart sank. "Oh, Jack…I'm so sorry."

He looked at her, hope in his eyes. "Any idea what she might have?"

"Why ask me?"

"Well…you know things…"

She shook her head. "I'm no doctor. But…based on what you said…that sounds like it might be Parkinson's disease. My great-aunt had it."

"Yeah? What causes it?"

"It's a degenerative brain condition," she said, wondering if she should be gentle or give it to him straight.

"What's that mean?"

"It means…well, it means that it's something that gets progressively worse."

Jack nodded. "That's what my dad said happened to her, it just kept getting worse. So how do they fix it?"

_I guess better he hear it from a friend than some doctor he just met._ "Jack…there is no cure. There are treatments, but there's no way to stop it." 

Jack rubbed his hand across his eyes. "Yeah, I was afraid a that."

"But don't take my word. You shouldn't get ahead of yourself, she might not even have Parkinson's. What does her doctor say?"

Anger darkened his brow. "She ain't been. My fuckin father didn't have the cash and was too stubborn n proud ta ask me for it, so she's been getting sicker n sicker and ain't seen no doctor at all."

Junior's mouth fell open. "He just stood around and watched her get sick and didn't take her to a doctor? Doesn't he care?"

"Alma Del Mar!" Ennis said, frowning. "You don't talk like that about Jack's dad, y'hear?" Junior looked chastised, but Jack just shook his head again.

"You're right, Junior. I've been askin myself that same question. I don't know that he does care, leastways not about nothin but himself and what he can and cain't stand t'do. It's clear ta me that her health ain't as important as his pride, which is why I'm goin out there ta take care a her myself."

"How long are you going to be gone?"

Jack ran a hand through his hair, which was already sticking up in an untidy mess. "I dunno. A week, at least. Depends on what the doctor says."

"Daddy, why aren't you going with him?" Junior asked, turning her eyes to Ennis.

"I'd like to, darlin, but I cain't. Calvin's startin any day now and we cain't both be gone from the ranch for that long. Any other time, the boys could handle things, but…one of us really gotta be here for calvin'."

Jack said nothing. Liz eyed him suspiciously, wondering if that was the real reason. Ennis was right; either he or Jack definitely needed to be here during calving…they'd be short-handed as it was if Jack were gone, since Miles' resignation…but something told her there was more to it.

"Then I'll go with," Junior said emphatically. "You don't need me for the calving. I can help you with your mother, Jack. Besides, I'd like to meet her."

Jack blinked at her. For a moment, Liz thought he might cry. "Junior, that's sure sweet a you, but you got school startin in a few days.."

"I can miss the first few days."

"I could be gone longer. I'm awful touched that you'd offer, honey, but you gotta stay here and see to your schoolin'."

Junior sat back, offering no further resistance. Everyone sat sneaking uncomfortable glances at each other for a moment until Jack got up. "Well, I've gotta pack," he said, and headed for the bedroom without another word. Junior stood and took Jack's plate and her own to the sink, leaving Liz and Ennis sitting silently at the table.

"You hate this, I know," she said quietly.

Ennis shook his head. "Shouldn't hafta deal with all this shit alone. I wish I could go along. Still, the way his dad is…if I went Jack might have more shit pilin up, and that he don't need." He sighed and met Liz's eyes, a look of blank confusion in his. "I jus wanna help, ya know? Trouble is, it's hard ta know what ta do that'd help him the most."

* * *

Jack came into the office just as she was getting off the phone. "You got it worked out?"

"Sure. You'll leave from Burlington at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, fly into Billings. You'll get there around ten o'clock local time. I got you a rental car." 

He shook his head. "Fuckin five hour drive from Billings. Damn western states, no airports nowhere. I'll tell ya, that is one thing I like about the East. Smaller fuckin states."

"Can't be helped."

"Yeah." He sat down in the wing chair by the desk.

She turned around and crossed her arms, watching him. "Jack, I'm so sorry for all this. You just can't catch a break, can you?"

"Maybe there's somethin to all that stuff Ennis is always sayin about bills comin due. I had seven years a peace n happiness, maybe I'm payin for it now."

"You don't really believe that."

"Nah. Bad luck flies around everybody all the time. Sometimes it flies on by, sometimes it sticks. I just been extra sticky these past few months, I guess." 

"I hate to think of you going out there alone."

"It's for the best."

"You know, that's what husbands are for. So you never have to deal with things alone."

"Yeah, I know. Part a me really wants him ta come along, too, but…" Jack sighed. "Liz, you ain't never met my dad, and neither has Ennis, not really. When we went up there, we had enough time ta get outta the truck and make it halfway to the door before we was duckin back in with birdshot flyin all around. And Ennis has a real bad temper. He's better'n he used ta be, but it's still pretty fuckin scary when he lets it outta the cage. My dad's the same way."

"You're afraid what might happen if Ennis went along, aren't you?"

"I know it sounds paranoid. But Ennis ain't the same man he was ten years ago, or even five, when he was still ashamed a who he was and hidin it. He wouldn't stand for it if my dad kept goin off on him, or on me. He'd take it for a little while for my sake, but he'd reach his limit and it could come ta blows real easy. Plus my dad's gonna be extra-super-special pissy cause he'll be feelin low that he had ta ask me for help. He'll hafta be provin that he's the alpha dog again, and I jus cain't face it. Worryin about all that and tryin ta make sure they stay civil while tryin ta help my ma. Last thing I need is Ennis getting hauled off in cuffs for punchin my dad's lights out, and don't you think he wouldn't if he was provoked enough. It's gonna be real hard bein away, not havin my man ta hug when I'm feelin low, but I gotta stay focused, y'know?"

"I know."

"Still…dependin on how things go, once the calvin is done, if I'm still out there maybe he can come out and join me. Gimme that time ta lay down the law with the old man and get him used ta bein around his queer son before I hit him with his queer son-in-law."

"Well, maybe that _is_ for the best."

"Don't feel like it, but I think it's the best I can do."

* * *

"So, what're you gonna do here all by yourself while I'm gone?" Jack said, smiling to himself. He was feeling relaxed and warm, having just spent a long, langorous hour making love to Ennis, who was now wrapped around him from behind like he was shimmying up a climbing rope. He hadn't thought there was anything that could distract him from the trip he was about to take, but happily, Ennis had proved him wrong about that.

Ennis grunted. "Beat off a lot."

"You old softie."

"Ain't gonna be alone. Got Junior, a full staff a ranch hands ta wrangle and Lizzie in my face every hour on the hour askin if I'm okay like I might forget ta breathe the air if you ain't around."

"Yeah, you got a full plate."

"Not as full as yours." He felt Ennis shift, propping up on one elbow to look down at him. "Worried about ya, darlin."

"I'm okay."

"For now. You jus keep rollin with them punches. First Bobby, then Forrester, now your mama."

"Yeah. Gettin a bit punch-drunk, I admit. But I'm thinkin maybe my Ma's gettin sick might not be such a bad thing, in the long run."

"How you figure?"

"Well…if she ain't quite up ta takin care a that bastard and his run-down ranch, maybe I can get her outta there. Get her a better life."

"She want one?"

"She'd never say so, but I know she's lonesome out there in the middle a nowhere. Maybe if she's a little poorly, she'd agree to move ta Cheyenne or somethin. Her sister lives there. Leastways she'd have family around, things ta do, people ta see and ta look out for her."

"What about your dad? Would he move ta Cheyenne?"

"I doubt it. Don't much care. If he wants ta sit in that ranchouse by his lonesome until he drops dead he can do it."

Ennis sighed. "Y'think you n him can ever make your peace?"

"Not s'long as I'm queer." Jack smiled up at him. "And I sure as hell hope that's forever."

"No chance he'd…ya know…"

"What, accept it? Think your daddy woulda done?" He saw Ennis flinch a little and regretted the offhand comment. "I'm sorry, darlin. Didn't mean ta…"

"No, it's okay. Man's dead and here I am still shiverin in my boots, it's stupid. But I don't know what he woulda done as he aged and times changed, cause he died and ain't never had the chance ta surprise me."

"You think he would have? Surprised you, I mean."

"Hell, no. He'd'a shot me dead. But I cain't say for sure."

"Well, my dad ain't dead and I _can_ say for sure, cause he already tried, remember?"

"Yeah. Got a point there, I guess." Ennis leaned down and kissed him, then drew back again. "So…you think your ma would move away from Lightning Flat and change her whole life around, but without your dad? Jus cause you cain't stand ta be in the same room with the man don't mean she feels the same."

"I dunno. I'm just spitballin. Tryin ta think a what I might need ta do for her. Sure's hell she cain't get no kinda help for whatever she got in Lightning Flat. Cain't stay in that house, alone all day, no care, no help."

"That means movin both of em, ya think?"

"Might take an act a God ta do that."

"And what would you call her getting sick, then?"

Jack nodded. "Maybe so. Then, what? Sell the ranch?"

"It happens."

"Time was I wanted us ta live there. Fix the place up, make a nice life together," Jack said, remembering those sweet dreams of his youth, dreams that carried him away from the poverty of the rodeo life and later the smothering banality of married life and finally the soul-crushing straitjacket of family life.

"That might not a been such a nice life on that ranch, if your dad's like you say. Anyhow, we did all right."

"Better'n all right, cowboy."

"You ain't said about sellin the ranch."

"Well, I don't wanna put the cart before the horse, you know? I don't know what the doc's gonna say about Mamma, or what Dad's gonna say, or what she wants or what he wants or nothin. Don't wanna go makin all kinds a plans without knowin nothin."

"Sure didn't stop ya from makin plans about you n me."

"Them was happy plans. These're…dyin plans." He shook his head. "Thinkin bout moving her somewere…even some kinda home, y'know?…and sellin the ranch, it puts me in mind a the future. Someday we'll be there, Ennis. One of us might get sick, need special care, get weak, maybe lose our senses…" The reality of what he was saying suddenly hit Jack like a lodgepole to the forehead, and his eyes filled with tears. Ennis frowned, seeing his distress. "Christ, Ennis, what if one of us got Alzheimer's? I cain't think a nothin worse than watchin you forget more n more every day until finally you didn't know me, didn't remember the life we had together, and didn't look at me like you do now, and ta watch you get frail and weak and scared when I remember you bein so strong and sharp and full a life…" The picture he was painting for himself felt very real. He could actually _see_ it. An old Ennis, white hair and stooped shoulders, shuffling around without sense, looking up at Jack without love or even recognition, floating through the end of his life moorless, without any idea of what he'd endured to reach that age, any knowledge of the rich life he'd lived, or why the people around him were so heartbroken to see what he'd become.

"Hey, now," Ennis said, brushing Jack's tears off his face. "I ain't goin nowhere."

"But you will. Someday, you will."

"Could just as easily be you," Ennis said. A shadow crossed his expression then, and Jack wondered if he was seeing a similar picture to the one in his mind, a picture of Jack himself, feeble and insensible. He shook it off. "We'll just hafta not do that, then," he said.

That made Jack smile. "I guess we won't then. Bossman won't stand for it."

"Damned straight. I'm gonna die with my boots on, Twist. Real sudden."

"Be nice if we could go at the same time."

"Christ, why're we talkin about this?" Ennis said, exasperated. "All this death n dyin n getting feeble-minded…awful morbid."

"It's just life. It's part n parcel. Gonna happen someday."

"Well, if I get all old n feeble and cain't take care a myself and don't remember nothin, just shoot me like a horse, will ya? I ain't gonna be no one's misery n burden."

Jack smiled. "Maybe I oughta get that in writin."

Ennis laid back against the pillows. Jack slid a little closer and rested his head against Ennis's shoulder. "So…once the calvin's over n done with…I'm thinkin I'll come on out ta Lightning Flat and help you out."

"How long's the calvin gonna take?"

"Least a week."

"Well…I'm hopin ta be home by then but I ain't optimistic."

"If you ain't comin home, I'll come out."

Jack nodded. "Okay. Gimme a chance ta work on my dad, so's maybe he'll leave the shotgun in the closet when he sees you."

"That'd be a nice change."

They lay there in silence for a few moments. "Ennis?" Jack finally ventured.

"Hmmm?"

"Thanks."

Ennis drew Jack closer and slid his arms around him. Jack felt him kiss his forehead. "Ain't no thanks due. You'd do it for me."

"There ain't nothin I wouldn't do for you," Jack murmured, hoping he didn't sound as sappy as he thought he did.

He felt rather than heard Ennis chuckle. "Will ya shut yer yap and get some sleep so's I can get some too? Got an early start tomorrow."

Jack smiled. "Can do."

* * *

The morning air was that crisp-cold that made the snow scream like Styrofoam when you trod on it and froze the inside of your nose when you drew it in. The car was idling outside, heating up, Jack's bags already in the trunk.

Jack cast his eyes around, sure he'd forgotten something crucial. Liz was waiting in the car; she'd be driving him to the airport. Ennis had begged off. "I cain't stand ta say some nice, polite goodbye with a handshake in public like that," he'd said. "I'll say goodbye at home where I don't hafta feel self-conscious about hugging and kissin you." Jack knew exactly what he meant, so the arrangement was just fine by him.

Ennis was hanging back by the fireplace, arms crossed over his chest, staring at his shuffling feet, while Junior fussed over Jack. "I oughta give you some coffee in a Thermos or something…you got your tickets?"

"I'm fine, Junior. I have flown before, you know."

"But it's a hard trip ta take, Jack…I sure wish you'd let one of us go with you…"

"Your dad's gonna come out once the calvin's done, don't you worry, sweetheart." Junior smiled, her eyes wet, and hugged him hard.

"You say hi to your mamma," she said, "and take good care of her. You let us know how she is, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jack said, hugging her back. He kissed her cheek and released her. "You don't worry about me none, y'hear? You just worry about your school and bein careful drivin, okay? Go slow, and if it's icy, jus drive like you ain't got no brakes. And you keep an eye on your radiator like I told you…and don't forget the antifreeze, y'hear?"

She nodded. "I'll be careful." Another awkward pause. "Well…bye, then." She seemed loathe to leave. Ennis kept glancing up at them. "Okay. Safe trip." She squeezed his hand once, then withdrew, heading for the back door. She patted Ennis's arm on her way out.

Jack turned toward his man, forcing a smile. "Well, cowboy, I gotta get goin."

Ennis nodded. He walked slowly forward, not meeting Jack's eyes, then reached out and wrapped him up in his arms. Jack came against the familiar wiry strength of Ennis's body with a sigh. How many times had they hugged goodbye, just like this, knowing it'd be months before they saw each other again? At least this time, he could be sure of a reunion in the near future, if not here, then in Lightning Flat. "You take care," Ennis said, his lips right near Jack's ear. "You call when you get there so we know you're safe."

"I will."

"And call me every night ta tell me what's goin on."

"Okay."

Ennis pulled back and looked into his face, a forced half-smile on his own. "Damn. You go on trips for the business all the fuckin time. I dunno, feels like more of a goodbye this time."

"Yeah. Don't know why, though."

"Well, I'll see you in a week, either way."

"Long fuckin week."

"At least I'll be so busy with the calvin I won't have time ta miss ya."

"Reckon I'll be pretty busy myself." Jack sighed. "But I'll still miss ya."

"C'mere," Ennis said, pulling him close. "Need a good-bye kiss." He dipped his head and kissed Jack, softly. Jack shut his eyes, inhaling Ennis's scent, storing up sense memories to recall lying alone in the dark with eyes closed. The sound of Ennis's sleep-breathing, the trod of his footsteps, the roughness of his palms. The collection of perceptions that together made up that image of Ennis he held in his mind and carried with him wherever he went. _You think I'm goin alone, darlin,_ Jack thought. _What you don't know is I'm takin you with me._

Jack stepped back and picked up his carryon. "I'll call you tonight."

Ennis nodded, holding up his hand in a half-hearted wave. "Be safe, darlin."

Jack reached out and squeezed Ennis's fingers one more time, then turned and headed out the door and down to the car, steeling himself to deal with whatever was waiting for him on the other end of the trip.


	16. Chapter 16

Jack sat in the car for a good five minutes, hoping she'd come out to the porch to greet him, the same way she had every other time he'd come here in his entire life. The porch remained bare and desolate, stretching out like a long tunnel where his incapacitated mother might be waiting at the other end, waiting for him to _do_ something.

He got out of the rental, leaving his bags inside; as he approached the house, the front door opened…but it was not his mother who emerged. His father just stood there on the threshold, hands in his overalls, looking to the right and left but not directly at Jack. "Didn't think you'd actually show up," he finally said, punctuating this statement with a sniff and a quick spit off to the right.

"Said I would, and I do as I say."

His father looked past him to the car, his brow like a purple thunderstorm sky. "You, uh…"

"I'm alone, Dad, all right? Now, I ain't here ta get into it with you, I'm jus here for Ma, so whyn't you step aside and let me in?"

John Twist's nonexistent lips curled into a sneer. "So that's how you think it is? Waltz in here with your fancy car and all your money and order me around in my own home?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "For Christ's sake, Dad, that ain't even my car, it's a rental. What, you think I _drove_ here from Vermont? And in case you forgot, you asked me ta come."

"Never asked, memory serves."

"You might as well have. Now do I hafta lost a coupla toes ta frostbite before you let me in the damned house?"

John reluctantly stood aside, cutting his eyes away; Jack strode past, hoping if he acted confident then his father wouldn't sense the anxiety and hesitance that filled him just being this near the old man. _I'm fuckin thirty-nine years old,_ Jack thought. _How does he make me feel like a goddamned kid just by lookin at me?_

He stopped in the kitchen and looked around the house where he'd grown up, feeling that odd sense of doubling that always came to him here, as if he were both a man and a boy at the same time. He'd half-expected the place to be a wreck, with dirty dishes everywhere and dustbunnies roaming free, but it looked the same. He left his coat on the kitchen table and went through to the living room. His mother was sitting up in her favorite chair, a book open on her lap, dozing off with her head tilted to the side.

He watched her for a moment, looking for signs of the illness his father had described, but she looked perfectly well and peaceful to him. He took off his hat and went to her chair, crouching before it. "Ma?" he said quietly, reaching out to touch her hand. "It's me, Ma. It's Jack."

She stirred and her eyes opened. He saw out of the corner of his eye a tremble in her hand as she woke. She lifted her head and her eyes grew wide at the sight of him. "Jack?" she said.

He couldn't help himself; the grin spread across his face all on its own. _You shouldn'ta let that old bastard keep you from seein her,_ he chastised himself. _It ain't her fault she's stuck with him._ "It's me, Ma. Come ta see you. Dad said you was poorly."

She smiled back, then raised a hand to his face like she was testing his reality. The fingers shook, but no more than Jack's own did after a day of heavy work with a sledgehammer on the fencelines. "Oh, my boy," she said, tremulous and breathy, and still a little sleepy. "You come home, Jack?"

Jack was growing puzzled. Her voice was shaky, yes. It didn't sound normal, nor like he remembered it. But it was clearly understandable. Was this what his father called not talking so well? Jack had heard worse from men who were pictures of health. "I come as soon as I heard you was havin troubles, Ma," Jack said.

She smiled. "You're a good boy."

_Yeah, Ma. I'm such a good boy that I moved halfway across the country, in large part ta get away from HIM, and didn't come ta see you for seven years cause I didn't want ta face him. I didn't ask questions when he wouldn't put you on the phone, I didn't wonder why you ain't called or why he always answered when I did. I'm such a good fuckin boy that you ain't never met your grandson, and now it's too late and you ain't even got to grieve him proper cause you never knew him ta know how ta grieve._ "I ain't done right by you," Jack managed to choke out. "I shoulda visited…"

"You're here now. You got a hug for your Ma?"

Jack leaned forward and drew her carefully into an embrace, mindful of her so-called fragility, but she felt like her regular self. Slender but toughened. He could sense tremors running through her limbs; it was like hugging a tree trunk in a stiff breeze. She hugged him back. "I'm so glad ta see you," Jack said, meaning it. He drew back and let himself be reassured by his mother's loving gaze. She ran her hands up to his hair, plucking at it, then over his browline, and down to his chin, which she seized in thumb and forefinger and shook it, like she used to when he was a child. Jack was an adult with a large business, a husband, a stepdaughter, and myriad responsibilities, but he still felt the tug of that ever-present wish that he could crawl up into his mother's lap, where bad things didn't dare follow him.

"You need some coffee, you been on the road," she said. Jack stood up and stepped back, wanting to see her walk. She put her hands on the arms of the recliner and levered herself up, then headed for the kitchen. Her shoulders were slumped a little and her footsteps had acquired a shuffling quality…but she made progress toward the kitchen only slightly more slowly than was normal. Her hands, hanging at her sides, fluttered on their own like they were being plucked by unseen puppeteers.

Jack didn't know what to think. He'd expected far worse. He'd expected to find her barely able to walk, indecipherable, and quaking like a trapped animal. There _was_ something wrong, that much was clear, but to his untrained eye it still looked to be in its early stages.

Why, then, had it looked so bad to his father that it had overriden his distaste for Jack?

_Cain't please my old man, no way,_ as he'd told Ennis long ago, and he had not been exaggerating…if anything, he'd been understating things, making the old man seem merely picky as opposed to rabidly disapproving. No matter how hard he'd tried, and he'd tried hard, Jack had never met the old man's exacting standards. If he baled more hay than anyone else, the bales were not quite square. If he rode a horse better, his seat wasn't right. If he made a good grade, then he should have made them sooner, or better still. Maybe in his father's structured mind, the slightest weakness perceived in his wife became a catastrophic system failure.

Maybe there was still time to help her after all.

* * *

Ennis was trying to read, but the phone was distracting him with its stubborn refusal to ring. _Why ain't he called yet?_ he kept asking himself, whereupon his brain insisted on providing a whole host of unpleasant answers to its own question. _He got there and his dad shot him dead. He had a flat tire on the way from Billings and the boys with the tire irons found him. He fell asleep at the wheel and wrapped the car around a tree. He got lost and is dyin a hypothermia on some Godforsaken back road in Montana. He hit a patch of ice and the car went into a creek so no one'll ever find him. He stopped for directions and…_

The phone rang. Ennis snatched it up. "Hello?"

"I have a collect call from Jack, will you accept the…"

"Yeah, yeah, I accept." The operator clicked off.

"Hey, cowboy."

Ennis let out a breath. "Why're you callin so late? I been waitin…"

"I'm sorry, I been making calls n arrangements…and it's only eight o'clock here, y'know. I just got here about two hours ago. It's a five hour drive from Billings."

"A course, a course. So…how's your ma?"

He heard Jack sigh. "I'll tell you, Ennis, a whole helluva lot better'n I expected. Ta hear my dad talk you'da thought she had one foot in the grave, but aside from her talkin bein a little wavery and her hands shakin some, I cain't see she's in such bad shape."

Ennis was surprised. He'd have thought that nothing less than her total incapacitation would have prompted old man Twist to ask Jack for help. "But…I thought your dad said she was real bad…"

"Y'know, I been thinkin on that, and he never said she was so sick. He said that it started in the spring and got worse. He said she had a tremble and a shuffle, and that her speech wasn't so good. He never said she couldn't walk, or couldn't move, or anythin like that. I kinda filled in that part myself."

"Well…I guess you thought wouldn'ta called unless she was real bad. I wouldn'ta thought so, neither."

"But she ain't so bad and he called, so I guess we're both wrong on that one. Maybe it seems a lot worse ta him than it seems ta me." Ennis heard Jack sigh again. "Maybe I was lookin for a reason ta come out here so I jumped ta conclusions about how bad she really was."

"Maybe so."

"She still ain't quite right, though. Gotta see a doctor down in Gillette day after tomorrow. Booked us into a hotel, I'll call and give ya the number when we get there."

Ennis considered, hesitated, considered again, and finally went ahead. "Y'know, Jack…"

"I know. Alma and Monroe live in Gillette," Jack finished for him. "Surely you ain't suggestin that I…"

"Aw hell, no. Jus…thought it was worth a mention." Ennis harrumphed. "And…your dad?"

"Hardly seen him. He kinda made a bit of a stand on the doorstep when I got here, but didn't really hold to it. Since then I barely talked to him. At least he ain't gone for the shotgun yet. I'm gonna hafta talk to him, though, especially with you comin out. Hey, the calves started comin yet?"

"Not yet, or I'd be down in the barn. Got three or four probably gonna go by mornin. Axel's got the watch overnight, he'll come get me if anyone starts in early."

"Yeah." There was a pause. Ennis imagined Jack looking around, casting for a topic, not wanting to hang up yet. "Sure is weird bein in this house after so long."

"You sleepin in your old room, then?"

"Nah. Couldn't fit on the bed, probably. There's another bedroom on the second floor, I'm sleepin in there." Another pause. "Are you in bed?"

"Yup. Powerful big and cold, though."

"Yeah. I ain't lookin forward ta goin up ta that room n sleepin alone, neither."

"Well, that's…good news about your Ma."

"I hope so. I ain't throwin a party jus yet, though. Still gotta see the doc. But maybe whatever's wrong, it's early enough somethin can be done, y'know?"

"That'd be a blessin."

"I oughta let you go, Ennis. You might get woken up any minute for calves comin."

"You gonna call me tomorrow night?"

"A course. Now, you think a me when you're beatin off, y'hear?"

Ennis smiled. "Already takin care of." He shut his eyes, picturing Jack in some farm kitchen in Wyoming, in a house Ennis had never seen with the parents he'd never met nor even seen a picture of, living in a page from the book of Jack's life that Ennis had never been allowed to read. "I love you, Jack," he said.

"I love you too, bud. Sweet dreams, now."

"G'night." Ennis hung up and then sat there staring into space for some moments, cursing the damned calves for keeping him here.

* * *

Jack lit up another cigarette, feeling bolstered by his talk with Ennis, his mind already casting forward to the next day and how the hell he'd fill it up until he and his mother could leave for Gillette in the evening. 

"Ain't that sweet," came his father's voice. Jack didn't have to look around to know that the old man was standing in the kitchen doorway. "What, you gotta check in with your faggot boyfriend before you can sleep?"

Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dad, I had a helluva long day and I am fuckin tired, so can we jus skip the 'you ain't no son a mine' rantin n ravin? I really don't wanna hear it."

"You ain't too tired ta fawn all over that queer like you're some kinda lovesick girl."

Jack steeled himself. _I won't let him bait me. I won't let him bait me. I won't._ "I was callin him ta say goodnight, like I always do when we're apart, and I told him I love him because I do, and you've had seven fuckin years ta get used ta the idea so why cain't you just fuckin let it go?" he said, his voice rising in spite of himself.

"How'm I s'posed ta let it go that my only son's…"

"A cocksuckin faggot, yeah I heard you the first dozen times ya said it, all right?" Jack continued. "I get the picture. I ain't here ta fight with you. I don't care ta listen to any more a your fuckin bullshit."

"It's still my house, goddammit!" Twist exclaimed, advancing on Jack and leaning over him, hands on the tabletop. "And you'll listen if I say you'll listen!"

"Fine. Talk." Jack just looked back at him flatly, keeping his expression as blank as he could.

"I won't have you talkin ta that queerboy in my house, on my phone, with my dime. Y'hear me, boy?"

Jack tapped the ask from his cigarette into the saucer he'd been using as an ashtray. "That's a pretty fuckin stupid rule, considerin you've talked to that queerboy yourself, on this phone, on your own dime."

"Not by choice, I didn't!"

"Fine, I heard ya."

"So you won't be callin him again?"

"Said I heard ya. Didn't say I'd do it."

"You tryin ta make me…"

"Make you what? What you gonna do, Dad? You gonna get out that belt and whup me like you did when I was eight years old and couldn't fuckin do nothin about it? Shit, I'd love ta see you try it. I ain't a kid no more. I'm bigger'n you and stronger'n you and there ain't nothin you can fuckin do ta me that you ain't already done and I'm still here, so you can just shut the fuck up about what you'll do."

Fury burst over John Twist's features like breakers on a shore, and before Jack even saw it coming, he'd hauled off and slapped Jack across the face as hard as he could. Jack's head rocked back, but he didn't allow himself to show how much it actually hurt. He raised his head and met his father's eyes, the entire side of his face burning. "You get that one for free, old man. Next time I hit back, you got that?" He didn't allow him a chance to respond, he just got up and stalked upstairs.

_Fine situation,_ he thought. _Here I was all worried about Ennis throwin down against him and I'm the one threatenin violence._

* * *

The first heifer went into labor just after breakfast, as Ennis had predicted. Axel came up to the house on his way off shift to tell him the news. "Well, sure was nice of em ta wait till I finished my coffee," Ennis said, putting his mug in the sink and heading down to the barn. 

Liz sat at the table for a few moments, enjoying the quiet, which she knew wouldn't last. Marianne, who'd spent most of the holiday in Wisconsin with her husband and kids at her father's house in Door County, would be returning this afternoon, and just in time. They'd almost eaten all the cookies and pies she'd left, although with Jack gone the rate of consumption would slow considerably.

She put on her coat and trudged up the drive to collect the mail. Catalog, catalog, phone bill, junk, credit card offer, feed invoice..

She stopped about halfway back, staring down at the postcard that had been innocently waiting between Newsweek and a card reminding her that it was time to get her teeth cleaned. It was addressed only to "Brokeback Ranch," no names. No return address, of course. For a message, just three words: "FUCK OFF, QUEERS."

Liz made her feet resume their course, but she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the postcard. She flashed back to the incident last summer when the barn had been defaced; that had been larger but this was somehow scarier. Whoever sent this hadn't cared that the postman would see it, not to mention everyone who sorted the mail. The image of Forrester and unknown helpers up on ladders painting the word FAGGOT on the barn was crazy and disturbing, but it didn't have the mundane malevolence of someone simply sitting down at their kitchen table with a postcard, as if to write a note to a friend, but instead scrawling FUCK OFF, QUEERS and then writing the address, fixing a stamp to the corner, and putting it in the mail as if it had the same right to safe conveyance come rain, sleet or snow as did the Sharper Image catalog or Jack's husbandry magazines.

She reached the office and stuck the postcard in a drawer, then sat down at her desk and stared into space. _Should I tell Ennis? He ought to know. But he'll just beat himself up and assume that it's because of the thing at the Linebecks', which it might be or might not be. He's got enough to worry about right now. But if he finds out later and I didn't tell him, he'll be mad. I'll tell him after the calving is over. Yes, but then he's going to Lightning Flat. He ought to focus on Jack now, not on some chickenshit asshole sending postcards._

_It's nothing. He doesn't need to know._

This decision made, she went back to work.

* * *

Ennis washed his arms up to the elbow for what felt like the twentieth time since morning. "How we doin so far?" he asked Rod, who was keeping the records. 

"Sixteen. All fine."

"Shit, don't say that, you wanna jinx us?" Ennis put his coat back on, shivering. "Remind me again why we set the calvin for fuckin January, Rod?"

"Cause it's the slow time. Nothing else going on."

"Like this ain't enough."

"Hell, Ennis. We only got a couple hundred to go. I don't know what you're complaining about."

"You wanna get yer ass fired, you jus keep mouthin off," Ennis said, elbowing Rod with a chuckle. Rod was okay. Apart from Jack, there were very few men whose company Ennis could tolerate for prolonged periods without becoming annoyed with them. Rod was one of those men, and as such, Ennis usually sought his quiet, capable assistance for the many long, labor-intensive and tedious tasks that cropped up on the ranch. "I got better things ta be doin than pulling calves outta cows, y'know."

"Yeah, I heard about Jack's mom. That's too bad." Ennis could sense Rod watching him without being obvious about it. "You, uh…stayed behind, huh?"

"What, you're sayin you wanna handle all this placenta on your own?"

"Hell, no. If you and Jack had both gone I'd be up shit creek, and I kinda mean that literally. But y'know…" He cleared his throat. "I know if my wife had to go home to look after a sick parent, I'd want to go. Not for the mother, but to be there for my wife."

Ennis was stunned into silence. Rod had never referred to Ennis's relationship with Jack, directly or otherwise. He had to know, of course, but he'd never acknowledged it outright. He didn't behave as if the fact that his employers were gay bothered him, in fact he had thrown in his hat when Fred Trimble had been assembling his anti-Forrester posse, but you never knew. Men like Rod, especially Vermonters, were perfectly capable of behaving cordially while quietly disapproving. Ennis had never asked, preferring peaceful ignorance to troubling illumination. As long as Rod did his job well, which he unquestionably did, Ennis didn't much care if he disapproved or not…still, he couldn't help but hope that a man he liked and respected didn't think of him as a perverted and immoral abomination. Rod's words equating his marriage to Ennis and Jack's relationship were an unexpected reassurance. "Ain't that I don't wanna, Rod. Got responsibilities that don't go away just cause I want em to."

Rod nodded. "Fair enough."

Paul McGill came around the corner from the other side of the barn, slick to the elbows with blood and other unmentionable substances. He went to the sink in the corner and began hosing himself off. "Got that breech out okay, Rod. Oh, and 376's still in labor. I'm worried about that one, it shouldn't be taking so long."

"What d'you recommend, Doc?"

"Give her an hour. We've got a few more starting up here, we can wait to see about 376."

Ennis nodded. "Okay, then let's…"

He was interrupted by the crackle of his short-wave. "Ennis?"

He plucked the handset off his belt and held it up to his mouth. "What, Liz?"

"Uh…the sheriff's here to see you. Can you come up to the house?"

Ennis frowned, ticking off things in his head. _Accident…crime…threat…social call…_ "I'll be right there." He turned to Rod. "You come get me if we gotta make a call about 376 while I'm up at the house."

He found Walter sitting with Liz in the kitchen. She'd given him coffee and was standing by the sink, arms crossed, a worried look on her face. Walter was clearly _not_ here on a social call. He was in uniform, hat on the table, and his brow was furrowed. He stood up as Ennis entered and shook hands. "Ennis, how are you?"

"Fine, Walter. Busy with calvin jus now. What c'n I do for ya?"

"Sit down. I have some things I think you should know about."

Ennis sat; to his relief, Lizzie took the seat to his right. As always, he felt uncomfortable dealing with anyone official without Jack at his side. Jack was the one who knew how to talk about things, and deal with things, and think ahead. In his absence, Lizzie was the next best thing. "What's goin on?"

"Well, you know that last summer when you boys had your trouble, I had one of my deputies infiltrate Forrester's group."

"Forrester's gone."

Walter nodded. "He is, yes, but he left us a nice little legacy. His group isn't gone, I'm sorry to say. My deputy has kept up with the group; we never let it out that he was undercover. It isn't a formal organization, far from it, just a loose collection of like-minded folks who tend to meet at bars and poker games and barbecues, that kind of thing." Ennis nodded. "Erland tells me that the big talk these days is that you were seen kissing Jack at a party recently."

Ennis sank lower in his chair, his face flushing. _Fuck._ "Is that so?"

"Have I been correctly informed?"

"You have. You're tellin me some a them good ole boys was at that party?"

"No. I doubt Grant Linebeck would have anything to do with any of them. But I don't have to tell you how things spread. Someone tells someone who hears it from someone else..."

"Yeah," Ennis said miserably. _I fuckin knew it. I knew it'd stir somebody up. Goddamn. Fuckin ruined our place, our safe place, jus cause I wanted ta stick it to some assholes couldn't keep their noses in line._

"Well, Erland says that some folks are getting pretty hot under the collar about it."

"Why the fuck do they care what I do at a party they weren't even at?" Ennis exclaimed, the rage boiling to the surface again.

"They care because they think it's their damned birthright to police others," Walter said, a scowl on his face. "They're trotting out that old saw about protecting the children…"

"Weren't even any kids _there!_"

"Doesn't matter. If you kissed Jack at a party then who knows? You might do it…in a bar. Or at a restaurant. Where children might see."

"And what?" Liz exclaimed. Her face was flushed bright with anger. "Be scandalized and scarred for life by the sight of a committed couple sharing a perfectly ordinary token of affection that they've seen a thousand times before in public?"

"I don't need to tell you what their objections are, Liz," Walter said. "I'm just telling you how it is. Ennis, what you do at a private party among friends is none of my business, but it sure looks like what you've done is give them an excuse. And they don't need much of one." He saw Ennis's stricken expression and leaned forward, smiling a little. "Look, if it wasn't this, it would have been something else. You can't second-guess your every move. They would have found something to overreact to eventually."

"So what're they sayin? If they're just bitchin about it…"

"If they were just bitching about it I wouldn't be here. They've made noise about vandalism, possibly here at the ranch. They, uh…" Walter hesitated. "There's talk about your daughter."

Now a black, despairing fear rose in Ennis's chest, pushing the anger and guilt out of the way in its path. "Junior? They wanna hurt Junior?" he thundered, starting to rise. He felt Liz's hand on his arm, holding him back.

"No, no, nothing like that," Walter said, holding up his hands. "They're saying she shouldn't be living here."

Ennis relaxed a little. "Well, they're just pissin in the wind on that. Junior is an adult and she can live wherever she damned well pleases."

"I know. I just thought you should be aware of what was being said. They might try to cause trouble with your FFA work co-op program."

"Went off without a hitch in the fall."

"I'd be prepared for a little trouble in the spring."

"Don't know what they can do. Done that program for years, never had no trouble." He sighed and met Walter's eyes. "How serious is this? Y'think I oughta have some…what, security? Think someone might come by?"

"I don't know. Erland can't really tell how serious they are about actually making trouble. They're also aware that if they get caught there'll _really_ be trouble, especially after what happened to Jack last summer." He glanced around. "Where is Jack, by the way?"

"Visiting his folks," Ennis said shortly, not wanting to get into it. "Why you tellin me this today? Some particular reason?"

"No. Erland met up with some of his 'friends' last night, he told me what he'd heard this morning, I wanted to know if you'd received any direct threats."

"Naw, not that I can recall," Ennis said.

"Sheriff…" Liz said, then hesitated. She stood up. "I'll be right back. I have something to show you." She went off towards the office and returned in a few moments, holding what looked like a postcard of the type that had heralded Ennis's only happiness for twelve years. Just the sight of a postcard like that still gave him a happy little thrill of excitement, although by the look on Lizzie's face, that might be about to change.

She handed him the postcard. "Jesus," Ennis cursed under his breath.

"What's it say?" Walter asked, leaning forward.

"It says FUCK OFF, QUEERS," Ennis snapped, tossing the card across the table. Walter picked it up by the edges and examined it.

"When'd you get this?"

"Came in this morning's mail," Liz said.

"When were you gonna tell me?" Ennis asked, rounding on her.

"I didn't want to trouble you, with the calving and Jack's mother and…"

"Christ, Liz. You gotta tell me this shit."

"I'm sorry! I thought it could at least wait until you weren't in the middle of the calving!"

"Liz, you got a plastic bag? I ought to take this in to be fingerprinted. Ennis, I know yours are on file. What about you, Liz?"

"Should be on file in New York State. I volunteered at a domestic violence shelter for awhile, they print you for that," she said, handing him a bag.

"Sending threats through the mail is a federal offense, although whether this actually constitutes a threat is another question. Can't hurt to know who sent it." He looked from Ennis to Liz and back again. "Look, Ennis, I don't want you obsessing about this. Most of the time, talk like this is just that…talk."

"They've already done more'n talk ta us, Walter, in case you forgot."

"But without Forrester they may have lost their real inspiration."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I ain't gonna jus sit around n hope for the best."

Liz was watching him. "What are you thinking, Ennis?"

He shook his head, hopeless frustrating clouding any thinking he might have been doing. _Fuckin ruined our place. Me n Jack's safe place._ "I dunno, Liz. I don't fuckin know."


	17. Chapter 17

Jack had watched his mother carefully while she prepared breakfast, refusing his offers to help. She was moving carefully, bracing herself against the counter, sliding things rather than picking them up. She also seemed to be tiring a lot faster than she used to. _She's sixty-five years old,_ he told himself. _Cain't rush around like she was thirty anymore._

His father sat silently drinking his coffee, not looking at Jack and not speaking. Jack silently got up to dry the dishes, and for once his mother didn't protest.

John stood and washed out his own coffee cup, which shocked the hell out of Jack. He stood there at the counter next to his wife for a few beats, silently looking out the window. Jack watched out the corner of his eye as his father laid a brief hand on his mother's shoulder, then turned and headed for the door. He paused to wrap himself in his winter coat, then stopped and spoke without turning. "Takin a turn around the spread," he said.

Jack knew his cue when he heard it. He grabbed up his coat and shoved his arms into the sleeves. "Now, you rest, Ma," he said. "We're gonna leave around five, y'hear?"

She nodded, smiling weakly. "I'll pack some things."

"Enough for a coupla days." He hurried out to catch up with his father, who was climbing into the beat-up ranch pickup. Jack threw himself into the passenger seat with barely a moment to spare before John gunned the engine and took off down the dirt track that led around the property.

They drove in stony silence. It was hard to breathe; the damned elephant was taking up so much room Jack felt like he was being slowly crushed. He didn't expect that his father would bring up the previous night's confrontation, especially since he probably felt he'd come off worse in it. If the usual pattern held, nothing would be said until the _next_ confrontation.

Jack peered through the fencelines into the main paddocks, frowning. "Dad…where's all the stock?"

He sniffed. "Hadta sell. Cain't maintain a herd no more, not way the hell out here when it's just me."

"What the hell you livin on?" Jack exclaimed, alarmed. He wasn't aware things had gotten _that_ bad.

"Do all right. Board horses in the stables, converted some barn space. Rent the land for huntin and trail-ridin. Got a coupla horse trainers pay me ta use the land for their work."

Jack nodded. He was grudgingly impressed with his father's resourcefulness in finding ways to make the land pay off without stock. "Sounds like you makin a go."

John sniffed. "Well, shit, lookit that. Got the blessin a the Big Shot Rancher, I guess I oughta be thankin Jesus fer my good fortune."

Jack shook his head. "Y'know, you might consider not takin everything I say as if it were some kinda dig at you. We might get along better."

"We'd get along better if ya stopped bein fuckin queer."

"Could you stop havin blue eyes? Or breathin?" Jack sighed and plunged ahead. "Look, I wish we could jus not talk about it but we cain't. Only reason Ennis ain't with me is cuz he's dealin with our calvin jus now. Soon's that's done, end a the week maybe, he's comin out here."

The only visible reaction from his father was a tightening around the mouth. "Ain't enough I gotta deal with one, huh? I gotta have two a ya under my roof?"

"We don't have ta stay here. Ma's probably gonna be in Gillette for a spell anyway." He sighed. "Dad, Ennis told me that you called ta talk ta him a piece back. Said you wanted ta know what kind a man he was." No reaction. "Why'd you do that?"

"I lost my son years ago," John said, low and bitter. "All I got left is you." Jack swallowed hard. _You don't care what he thinks,_ Ennis whispered inside his head. _He ain't lost you, he jus never knew you. He only lost the son he thought he had and cain't appreciate the one he's got._ "Wanted ta know if you were worth anything. Had ta know what sorta…man…ya shacked up with. If he was some kinda pansy-ass sissy boy, well. Woulda been the end."

"So…Ennis was some kinda test, is that it? Wanted ta know what kinda taste in men I had?"

His father's lip curled. "Shut your vile mouth, boy."

Jack smirked. "You're losin your touch, dad. And I'd be proud ta be judged by my choice a man, because Ennis is a fine one and no mistake. But I'll tell you this right now…he ain't as _easygoin_ as me, so I suggest you work on your manners and practice keepin your trap shut before he gets here."

* * *

Marianne and Junior listened as Ennis filled them in on what the sheriff had said, and the postcard that had been received. Marianne was calmly inscrutable, as always, but Junior was jumpy and anxious. "Oh, Daddy…you think someone's gonna come round here and…"

Ennis held out a hand. "Now hold on, darlin. Folks like ta talk big cause they ain't got the guts ta take no action. Sayin bad things about us is one thing, but actually getting off their asses and doin somethin they could go ta jail for is somethin else. It ain't too likely anyone'll make no trouble. But I wanted both of you ta know."

"You should make sure you're locking up at night," Marianne said. "You know you all have a tendency to just leave doors unlocked for convenience."

Ennis nodded. "That's a good idea, Marianne. Let's all make sure we're doin that. And I'm gonna have a meetin with all the hands so's ta make sure they're all keepin their eyes open. And that goes for all a you, too. You see or hear anything unusual, or we get another one a them postcards, I wanna know right away," he said, eyeing Liz sharply.

"Aye aye, sir," she said, sinking lower in her chair.

"Well…I guess that's all. What you doin tonight, Junior?"

She glanced at her watch. "I gotta be headin out, Daddy. I'm meetin some friends in Middlebury, we're gonna go out for pizza and see a movie."

"Okay, then. You drive safe." Junior got up and went out the back door.

Marianne rose from her seat. "I see I have quite a bit of baking to do to restock the pantry," she said, a small smile on her face. "I better get started."

Ennis heaved a weary sigh. "I gotta get back ta the barn. Rod's probly goin nuts down there by himself."

"Will you tell Jack about what's going on?" Liz asked.

He thought for a moment. "I don't like ta. He's got enough on his mind as it is. And it ain't like he can do nothin."

She ducked her head and met his lowered eyes. "If your positions were reversed, wouldn't you want to know?"

"Yeah," he said, grudgingly. "I'll tell him. He's s'posed ta call me tonight from the hotel in Gillette. He and his ma are driving down there this afternoon."

"It's weird to think of him in the same town as Alma and Francie."

"I know. I'm hopin ta get ta see Francie when I go out there. If she'll see me," he added under his breath.

"Do you think he'll…"

"Talk ta them? Not if he can help it."

* * *

Jack carried his mother's suitcase out to the rental car, started the engine to get the heater warmed up, and returned to the house. She was making some sandwiches for the trip. He'd tried to tell her it was only two hours, but she'd insisted. "What if we get hungry and don't wanna stop, then?" she said. "You'll be glad we got them sandwiches."

Jack stood with his father on the porch, both of them smoking. _Ennis'd fuckin kick my ass if he saw me smokin after all the shit I gave him ta quit,_ he thought. He wasn't even sure why he _was_ smoking. He had no better explanation than that being here just made him want to smoke.

The sun was hanging low on the horizon, its early January bedtime closing in fast. The day hadn't been terribly cold, but now the wind was picking up. Jack shivered, glancing over at his father. They seemed to have struck an uneasy truce that had held all day, but now Jack wondered if he was about to break it. "Why'd you call me here, dad?" His father opened his mouth, brow clouding. "And don't gimme that 'I didn't call ya' bullshit. You called wantin help but you cain't admit it. Let's just go by that and how about you answer my question?"

"Your ma's poorly," John muttered.

"Dad, you made it sound like she was about ta keel right over. She's a mite palsied and tired, but I cain't see she's so terribly impaired."

"Needs help," his father said, his voice quieter and more reluctant with each word. He sighed. "Help I cain't give her."

Jack didn't comment on the historic moment that he'd just witnessed: his father admitting he needed help. "Okay," was all he said. "But why'd you make it sound so…"

His father turned on him, eyes blazing. "Maybe it don't seem like nothin ta _you,_ boy. Maybe ya think she's just fine, oh a little tired, a little shaky, huh? That's my _wife_. She ain't never been sick a day in her life. She's the blessed _rock_ I built this whole place on and I saw her startin ta fade, I…" He faced forward again, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, blinking.

Jack gaped at him, astonished. "Dad, I didn't…" he began, reaching out to touch his father's arm.

John jerked away, snarling. "Don't you touch me."

He backed off. "Okay, okay." Jack shook his head, a few things reorienting themselves in his head. "I didn't realize you worried so much." He swallowed. "Didn't realize you cared."

John snorted. "Thought I didn't care about my own wife? Must think I'm some kinda heartless monster."

Whatever trickles of pity and shame had been making their way into Jack's heart froze solid. "Well, what do I know, Dad? You're just the guy that pissed on me, beat me and belittled me my whole life, and disowned me for bein queer. Guess I ain't exactly disposed ta think kindly a you."

John turned his head and met Jack's eyes, and Jack saw a flicker of understanding there. "Guess not," his father said. He flicked his cigarette butt into the yard.

Jack's mother emerged, bundled up in her coat, bag of sandwiches in hand. "I'm ready now, Jack," she said.

Jack nodded, tossing his own cigarette away. "Dad, I left you the number a the hotel where we're stayin. I'm gonna call you tonight and tell you the room numbers." His father made some kind of grunt of assent. "Ma, you go ahead and get in the car, I'll be there shortly." She smiled at him, then squeezed his father's hand for a moment. She made her careful way to the car, John's eyes following her progress across the yard.

Jack took a step away, then turned and faced his father again. "You know I intend ta stick around, here or in Gillette, until Ma's all sorted out, right?" John nodded, looking away. "I ain't cuttin you out, but we're gonna hafta figure out some way ta deal with each other if we're gonna do what's best for her." No response. Jack pulled on his gloves. "Now, listen up. My husband is comin out here in a week once he's finished with the calvin." His father's lips tightened up again at Jack's deliberate use of the word 'husband.' "I don't expect you ta like him, or accept anythin you ain't gonna. But I do expect you ta be civil ta both of us and keep your rude comments ta yourself, cause I ain't gonna stand for you talkin shit ta him, and he sure as hell ain't gonna stand for you talkin shit ta me. Trust me, it's for your own good, cause one thing about my man is he's got a temper on him. You got that?"

John didn't move, just kept staring at some point over Jack's shoulder. "Be waitin ta hear what that doctor says," he muttered. He spit on the ground near Jack's feet and went inside.

Jack sighed, wondering if any of that had sunk in. He trudged across the yard, got in the car, and was glad to put the house in his rearview mirror.

The roads weren't paved until they got to Hwy 59 south towards Gillette, so Jack concentrated hard on his driving. His mother stayed quiet, her hands folded in her lap, letting him watch the road.

It was a relief to pull onto the blacktop and point the car south. Jack sighed. "Forgot how it is drivin on all this washboard," Jack said, smiling.

"The roads is all paved where you live?" Grace asked.

"Oh, yeah. Few back roads and farm trails are gravel or dirt, but everything else is paved."

He glanced at her to find her looking at him. "I'm glad we got this time ta talk, jus you n me," she said.

He grinned. "Me too, Ma."

"It's been so long since I seen you."

"I'm real sorry about that."

She nodded. "I know why you stayed away. Cain't really blame you for it."

"It's no excuse. I'm a grown man, I oughta be able ta face him."

"Well, you're here now." She reached out with a trembling hand and touched his hair. "You're lookin so healthy n fine, Jacky. Look like ya got a good life."

"I do, Ma. Real good life. Wish you could see it."

"Maybe." They were silent for several minutes. "I been so worried about ya, son. After your boy died."

Jack's throat tightened. "It's been real hard, but I jus gotta go on. I'm lucky ta have people around me that care about me, and plenty ta keep me busy." He sighed. "The holiday was real bad. It's like it come up on me all at once."

She took his hand where it rested on the bench seat, squeezing it. "Sometimes sadness feels the worst at happy times. At least you ain't alone."

"Nope. Ain't never alone, and it sure is a comfort."

Grace smiled. "Will ya tell me about him?"

"Who?"

"Yer man. I'd like to hear about him."

Jack smiled, warmth blooming in his chest to drive away his father's deep-freeze. "You'll meet him yourself soon. He's comin out after the calvin's done."

"Tell me anyway. What's he look like?"

Jack shrugged, feeling a little odd about running down Ennis's physical characteristic like he was writing a personal ad. "I dunno. Brown eyes, blond hair, little taller'n me. Lanky n strong, y'know, like a ranch hand."

"Is he a talker, like you?"

Jack had to laugh at that. "Ennis, a talker? No, he sure ain't. Talks more now than he did when I met him, but he's still kinda the strong silent type."

"Is he…good ta you?"

He turned then and met her eyes, so hopeful. "He sure is, Ma."

She smiled, facing front again. "Good. That's good."

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hey, cowboy."

Ennis smiled. "I like hearin them words. How ya doin, darlin?"

"Okay. Me n Ma are at the hotel…lemme give you the number. You got a pen?"

Ennis fumbled in the nightstand and found a pencil. "Go ahead." He wrote down the number and Jack's room number on the flyleaf of his book.

"Me n Ma got adjoinin rooms. Was glad they had vacancy, seein's this is the only hotel in these parts."

"So you're seein that doctor tomorrow?"

"Yeah, bright n early."

Ennis hesitated. "And…your dad?"

"Well, I tell ya. Had ourselves a coupla throw-downs. Think we got a cease-fire goin on. Told him you was comin out and he best mind his p's n q's."

"Didja ask him why he called when yer ma wasn't so bad off?"

There was a pause before Jack answered. "I think ta him, she is."

"Yeah," Ennis said quietly.

They both sat on the line, not speaking, for a few moments. "I sure do miss you," Jack finally said.

"Me, too." Ennis took a deep breath. "Jack, there's some stuff goin on here. I don't like ta bother you with all you got t'worry about, but I know I'd wanna know if I was you."

"What's goin on?" Jack said, an edge of concern coming to his voice.

"Walter came by today and told me that his deputy Erland, y'know, the one who got in with Forrester's people? Erland been hearin stuff from them folks. Seems they got their drawers all in knots about me kissin you at that party."

He heard Jack curse under his breath. "What the fuck business is it a theirs?"

"Point is some a them talkin about doin some mischief, like maybe some vandalism, and Walter wanted ta give me a heads up."

"Christ, Ennis. This is the last fuckin thing we need."

"Don't I know it. I doubt they gonna do nothin serious. Somebody sent a postcard that said 'FUCK OFF, QUEERS'. Got it today."

"Shit."

"I had a talk with the hands ta keep their eyes open. Gonna have staff around 24/7 during calvin anyway."

"Ennis, you can talk like you ain't worried but you ain't foolin me."

"Fuck yeah, I'm worried. But I cain't hide under the fuckin bed." He shut his eyes. "I'm sure as hell sorry, Jack."

"What're you sorry for?"

"If I hadn'ta kissed you under that mistletoe…"

"Aw, no. Don't you fuckin _dare_ say you're sorry for that. You ain't done no different than anyone else there. We hogtied ourselves for seven years, barely holdin hands when others could see, and you kiss me once and you're ready ta fall on your sword? No fuckin way."

"If I hadn'ta done it…"

"Well, it's too goddamned late now, so quit yer whinin. It ain't your fault, you hear me? That kiss damned near put me over the moon, and if there's shit ta deal with now cause of it then I'll be glad ta deal."

Ennis smiled. "That's jus like you, rodeo. Full steam ahead n devil take the hindmost."

"Wish you was here ta take my hindmost just now, babe."

"You got a filthy mind, y'know that, Twist?"

"And you love it, don'tcha?"

"Not when I'm thousands a miles away with a damned boner I'm gonna hafta take care of my own self."

He heard Jack sigh. "How's Junior? And Lizzie?"

"Junior's out with some friends, called ta say she's stayin at Anne-Marie's. Lizzie's over at Peter's, I think. Marianne came back today, y'know."

"I remember. Ya got the whole house ta yourself then, huh?"

"Yep."

"Can ya do me a favor?"

"What?"

"You, uh…gonna deal with that boner pretty soon?"

"Soon's you stop jabberin at me, yeah."

"When you hang up, go on into the livin room and put down some pillows in front a the fire."

"Huh?"

"I got that same problem, lover, and when I'm takin care of it, I wanna close my eyes and picture you layin under that picture a Brokeback, not a stitch on, beatin off with the light from that fire on ya while you're moanin my name, y'hear?"

Ennis swallowed hard. "Shit, Jack. That's the best damned idea I ever heard."

"You go on, now."

"Bye," Ennis choked out, and leapt out of bed. He stripped off his pajama bottoms and headed for the living room.

* * *

Ennis dreamt of Jack. He wasn't sure what was happening, or where they were, just that they were together and he felt happy.

He'd had dreams like this frequently during his marriage. The tension and guilt of his relationship with Alma would melt away during his slumbering escapes and the sky would open above him. Sometimes Jack wasn't even there, precisely, more like a feeling of him.

He'd done as Jack suggested and stroked himself to orgasm lying in front of the fire, his eyes fixed on that image of Brokeback, crying out Jack's name as he came, his eyes closed, imagining Jack there with him. He'd seen stars for a few seconds, then drifted off to sleep.

Now they were in camp, sitting by the campfire as they'd so often done. "Nice ta be back," Jack said.

"Place hasn't changed a bit," Ennis said.

"Nothin's changed."

"We have."

"Nothin'll ever change."

The wind was rattling the tree branches, drowning out what Jack was saying. "What?" Ennis said, trying to crawl closer so he could hear. No matter how far he crawled, Jack receded. "I cain't hear ya!"

Ennis jerked awake. Someone was knocking…no, _hammering_…at the back door. He jumped up, dizzy with sleepy disorientation, and grabbed an afghan to wrap around his nakedness. He stumbled through the kitchen to the door and yanked it open. "What the fuck?" he said, blinking.

Rod was standing there, wide-eyed and sweaty. "Stables are on fire!" he cried, then turned and ran back down the porch stairs.

Ennis took a few steps out, wondering if he was still dreaming, until he smelled the smoke in the air and saw the licks of flame around one corner of the stables, working their way up towards the roof. "Motherfucker," he muttered, then lurched back into the house and dove for the phone.


	18. Chapter 18

Ennis yanked on the first clothes his hands touched, which turned out to be the jeans he'd worn that day and a flannel shirt that was hanging on the knob of the bathroom door. He ran to the back door, tugged on his boots over bare feet and ran outside, hatless, buttoning the shirt as he went.

Rod already had the horses out of the stable and safely into the corral, where they stamped and whinnied with fear, steam pluming from their nostrils. Ennis barely felt the cold, his mind zeroing in on the task at hand. Cady was dousing the flames with the hose from the stable tub-sink, and Ennis felt his chest loosen a little as it became clear that the fire was still small, and with luck, they'd be able to put it out before it did any irreparable damage.

Ennis grabbed an empty feed sack, wet it in the trough, and started slapping at the sparks and licks of flame that were metastasizing from the main blaze. A truck drove right down to the corral from the main drive and the doors popped open, spilling Rory and his teenage son Deke. Ennis had made two calls when Rod had woken him: the fire department and Rory, who was his nearest neighbor. That was the usual procedure. Rory would have called Peter, who would have called Gus, and so on. When someone had a fire, everyone helped. He and Jack had run to their own truck and taken off in the middle of the night more than once. Pretty soon the place would be swarming with help, though it didn't look like they were going to need the whole crew, thanks to Rod and Cady's quick action.

Deke and Rory began grabbing handfuls of snow and tossing them around the base of the stable wall near the fire. Ennis stepped back, his eyes darting around in search of smoldering wood, telltale smoke, or sparks of flame. "Gonna be okay, Cady?" he called. Cady just nodded and flapped a hand, his hose still aimed at the corner of the stable, now blackened and steaming.

Another car pulled up behind Rory's truck and Liz popped out like a jack-in-the-box, Peter following a little more slowly. She ran to Ennis in a series of mad lunges, her eyes wide with panic. "Ennis…wha…how…is it…"

He grabbed her arms to hold her still. "It's okay, Lizzie. The stable started on fire but we got it put out now." He lifted his head and called to Pete. "Ya wanna call off the cavalry, doc?" Pete lifted a hand in acknowledgment and headed for the house.

"What happened?" Liz asked, still breathing hard.

"I dunno. I was asleep; Rod woke me up. Rod!" The stock manager looked up, wet grain sack in hand. Ennis motioned him over. "What'd you see, now?"

Rod swiped at his face, which left it arguably dirtier than before. "I came out of the barn for a smoke, and I saw a little flame over here. I ran over and the wall was just starting to catch. Called for Cady to get the hose, then came up and got you."

"So the fire'd just started, then?"

"Musta. I did take a quick glance around but I didn't see nobody." He and Ennis looked at each other, then they both looked down, casting their eyes around the stables. The area around the smoldering corner was a morass of mud, water, soot and footprints, but in the snow some distance away, they could see a clear trail of footprints, coming and going, that led down towards the creek. "I'll get a flashlight," Rod said, his jaw tight.

"Take Cady with you. And a shotgun. I'll handle things here," Ennis said. The fire department was arriving, and a sheriff's cruiser was right behind them.

Ennis watched as the firemen poked around the corner of the stable, pulling off a few boards with their axes and checking for smoking embers. The fire chief stood next to him and watched. "Looks like you got it put out pretty quick," he said.

"Damn good thing. I'd'a hated ta hafta build a new stable."

"You thinking it was set?"

Ennis didn't know the fire chief except by sight; he had no idea what the man's attitudes were or how much he knew about him and Jack. "Well…the sheriff's been keepin an eye on some folks that might wanta cause us trouble. Cain't help but think this is some a their handiwork."

"We'll see if it was set or not. Were there any flammable materials in that corner? Chemicals? Oils? Hay or feed? Sawdust?"

"Nah, not in that corner. Kept the leatherworkin tools in that corner mostly."

"Uh-huh. Then it's pretty unlikely it's just catch fire spontaneously from the ground up like that. Anyone smoking around here?"

"Nah. Got some hands keepin an eye on the heifers calvin, but if they're steppin out ta smoke they'd stay close ta the barn, and that's a good fifty yards away."

"Uh-huh." The fire chief said nothing, then lit up his own cigarette, which struck Ennis as ironic. "We'll have a look-see in the morning when she's cooled off."

"Can the horses go back in there?"

"Long's they don't disturb the burned part."

"No, ain't no stalls there, like I said."

"That's okay, then." He clapped Ennis on the shoulder and headed back to the truck. Ennis was starting to shiver; the adrenaline rush and distraction were wearing off. No sooner had this sensation hit him then Lizzie appeared at his side with his coat and gloves.

"You'll freeze to death," she clucked, holding up the jacket for his arms.

"Thanks, swee'pea." He put one arm around her and felt her still shaking. "It's okay. Not much damage. Few new boards, be good as new."

She looked up at him with that eyebrow cocked and he could see that wasn't what was troubling her. "They came to our _home_, Ennis. While there were people here, close by. This is way beyond writing rude postcards and talking shit over a beer. This is _arson._"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said, quietly. "And I mean ta take steps."

"What steps?"

"Well, first off, you pack some things. You're gonna be stayin at Pete's until this all gets sorted. And Junior's gonna stay at Anne-Marie's until her dorm opens, then she's stayin there."

"Ennis, you can't stay here all alone!" Liz exclaimed.

"Lizzie…"

"No, I won't hear of it. I can be just as stubborn as you, you know!"

He sighed. "All right. But you're staying at the main house with me, y'hear?"

She nodded. "Okay."

Rod and Cady came trudging back, Rod's flashlight bobbing ahead of him. "We followed the footprints to that track in Rory's woods," he said, pointing. "They must've parked there. No one would've seen them, those woods are thick."

"Well, here comes Walter, we better tell him all this stuff." Ennis stared at the still-smoking stable. "Then I got some calls ta make."

"You going to call Jack?" Liz asked.

"No, not just yet. I'll call him when I can give him some answers and let him know there's measures in place."

"What measures?"

"That's why I gotta make some calls."

* * *

Jack checked his watch for the umpteenth time since his mother had gone into the neurologist's office. He'd offered to accompany her, half hoping she'd say yes and half hoping she'd say no, but she'd refused.

He glanced around at the other people in the waiting room. Some wore the same expression he could feel on his own face: a pinch of anxiety, a crease of dread. Were they waiting for a diagnosis for a loved one? For themselves? How many of them were about to get life-changing news? Life-_ending_ news?

Lost in these thoughts, he didn't notice the doctor come into the waiting room until his name was called. "Mr. Twist?"

"Yes?" he said, bounding to his feet.

"Your mother would like you to join us now."

Jack nodded and followed along, feeling cowed and hopelessly inadequate in the face of this man's schooling and expertise. He was led to an office where his mother sat in one of the chairs before the doctor's large desk. She smiled and held out a hand; he grasped it tightly as he sat down.

The neurologist's name was Nightingale, which seemed both ridiculous and appropriate. He looked to be about Jack's age, with curly salt-and-pepper hair. "Well, Mrs. Twist, we have a lot to talk about, and first let me say that it's really good that you've come to see me this early."

"What's she got, doc?" Jack asked.

The doctor continued to address himself mostly to Jack's mother. "Grace, you are exhibiting all the early symptoms of Parkinson's disease." Jack sagged, although he wasn't really surprised.

Grace nodded. "What exactly is that, doctor?"

"It's a condition in which some of the cells of your brain are dying. Those cells produce a chemical called dopamine. Dopamine is what's responsible for coordinating all your muscle movements smoothly. When you don't have enough of it, what you get are tremors in your hands and feet and difficulty speaking, as you've observed."

"Am I going to die from this?" Grace asked. Jack couldn't believe how calm she was.

Dr. Nightingale smiled. "Parkinson's is not a fatal condition. But if left untreated, the tremors and balance problems will get worse and worse until eventually, you're unable to function."

"So I won't die, but I'll wish I could."

The doctor sighed, and Jack could infer that this man had seen patients suffer such a fate up close and personal. "You might say that."

"You said if we leave it untreated," Jack said. "What's the treatment, then?"

"Well, what we'll do is start your mother on a drug that replaces some of the dopamine she is missing. We'll see how she responds and adjust the dosage accordingly. It's not a guarantee. Every patient responds differently. But many people with this condition are able to live for years with significant reduction in their symptoms on this treatment. However, the underlying condition will continue to progress while you're on medication, so we will need to monitor you and adjust your medication over time."

Grace was nodding. "I understand."

"I do have another, more pressing concern, however."

Jack frowned. "What's that?"

"Mr. Twist, your mother has indicated that she's been more easily fatigued recently."

"Yeah, I noticed that myself."

"I've examined her and I'm concerned that she has some fluid buildup in her lungs, most likely a consequence of prolonged exposure to the dry, cold conditions in her home. She may have a respiratory infection. This could turn into pneumonia very quickly, and it makes the introduction of her dopamine treatments more hazardous. I'd like to admit her to the hospital for a few days and try to get her lungs clear before we start, and keep her there for observation over the first few days of treatment."

Jack nodded. "Whatever you think's best."

"Grace has told me that you are here from Vermont to see to her care. Are you willing to extend your stay?"

"I'd planned on stayin at least a week. I can stay longer if need be."

"Good. I'll call over to Campbell and arrange it."

"Can I drive her there? We'll need to get her things from our hotel."

"Of course. Once you get checked in, you'll be under the care of an internist there, Grace. I will come tomorrow and see how you're doing, and we'll talk about the Parkinson's treatment."

They both shook hands with Dr. Nightingale, and left the offices. Nothing was said until they were back in the car on their way to the hotel. "Jack," Grace said in a small voice, "hospitals are expensive…"

"Don't you worry about that."

"Yer daddy n me don't have much…"

"Ma, I said don't worry."

She sighed. "Yer a good boy, Jacky."

"I just wanta make sure you're getting the kinda care you deserve." He sighed, his thoughts jumping ahead a week, two weeks, a month. "Ma, bein on that ranch ain't no good for ya. You heard what the doc said. All that cold n dryness is bad fer your lungs."

"I'll manage."

"That ain't good enough."

"What can I do?" she said, a note of stridency entering her voice. "I cain't just up n leave!"

"Why not? People do it every day! They retire and move to Arizona where it's warm! Ain't it about time you n Dad thought about that?" He shook his head. "Ain't good for neither a you ta be stayin out there all by yourselves, far from anything or anyone, no one around…what if one a you got hurt? Had a heart attack? There ain't no help nearby, not for miles!"

"That ranch is your daddy's life, Jack," Grace said. "He ain't never gonna leave."

"Dad needs ta rethink his priorities, Ma."

* * *

"Daddy, I don't like this one little bit."

"You don't hafta like it, Junior. You jus hafta do as I say, now."

"But what if something else happens…"

"Then you'll be far away from it. Ain't nothin you could do anyhow."

"How do you know that? I ain't a helpless little baby, you know! I might be able to do something!"

"I don't care ta find out. Now, I oughta talk ta Anne-Marie's mom, is she there?"

"Sure, just a sec."

Ennis waited until Mrs. Templeton came on the line. "Hello?"

"Afternoon, ma'am, this is Ennis Del Mar."

"Yes, Mr. Del Mar. Junior's told us about your situation at home."

"I sure appreciate your lettin my daughter stay with you. I hope it ain't no inconvenience."

"No, it's no trouble at all. Junior's such a nice young lady."

"She surely is, ma'am."

"And it's less than a week until the dorms open up."

"I hope we'll have all this straightened out before then, but until then I'll sleep easier knowin she's safe."

"I'm so sorry you're having such trouble."

"Thank you, ma'am. Seems there's folks got more quarrel with us than I thought."

Mrs. Templeton paused. "I'll be honest with you, Mr. Del Mar. I don't agree with your lifestyle, either. But it's none of my business what you do, and anyone claiming Christian values on their side while acting with such hatred is no kind of Christian I recognize."

"I appreciate that, ma'am. Anyways, I just wanted ta check everything was all right."

"Oh, it's fine. Annemarie's thrilled to have Junior here. You keep us informed about how things are going."

"I surely will, thank you."

He hung up and stared at the phone for a moment, then jumped in his chair as it rang again. "Hello?"

"Ennis? It's Fred. It's all set. Where you wanna meet?"

"Mike said we could meet at the church."

"Okay. Tomorrow at ten?"

"Yup. See ya there. Thanks, bud."

"No problem."

He hung up again, glancing at the clock. Two in the afternoon. He fetched a deep sigh, went into the bathroom and took a quick shower. He dressed again, grabbed a sandwich from the fridge and headed back down to the barn. The heifers didn't care if the entire township turned out with torches and pitchforks, they were still going to want to have their calves.

* * *

"Jack, stop fussin over me, I'm jus fine."

"You ain't fine, Ma, you got Parkinson's disease and gunk in your lungs and I ain't lettin you go back ta that ranch ta get sick all over again."

"Sit down, you're makin me jumpy."

Jack sat in the chair next to his mother's hospital bed. She was watching "Donahue" and drinking some juice the nurse had brought her. Her internist had been and gone, her chest had been X-rayed, her nurse had drawn some blood and given her strict instructions for how much fluid she was supposed to drink, and now there was nothing much to do but wait.

They sat quietly listening to some actress Jack had never heard of talk about her failed marriages and her recovery from diet pill addiction. Jack's mind wandered. He worried about how the calving was going. He worried about the postcard they'd received at home. He worried that something else would happen to interfere with Ennis's plans to join him. He worried about his man's safety, as well as Lizzie and Junior's. He worried about his mother, and her prospects. He worried about having to deal with his father and about the impossibility of convincing him to sell the ranch and move somewhere better for Grace.

Out of nowhere, he found himself worrying about Lureen, too. The last time he'd spoken to her, before the holiday, she'd sounded stressed and discontent. He'd listened to her talk about how hard it was to go on each day knowing that Bobby was dead. At the time, he'd congratulated himself on how much better he was handling their son's death than she was. Now, he wasn't so smug. Being here with his mother only made him think again about how she'd never met Bobby, and how inexcusable that was on both him and Lureen, and how Bobby had been deprived of a grandmother's unconditional love. Faye's careful, engraved-invitation, don't-mess-up-Granny's-dress type of grandmothering hardly counted.

On top of everything else, he missed Ennis badly, with a sharp ache that had taken up residence somewhere behind his sternum. He'd only been gone three days and it felt like forever. He'd taken longer trips than this and had never missed him so much so soon…he supposed all the emotions flying around in his head were making it worse.

He gave a start, realizing that his mother had said something. "Huh? Sorry, Ma. Was out woolgatherin. What's that you say?"

"I said, that's a lovely ring." She motioned with her eyes to his left hand.

He held it up. "Oh. Thank you."

She met his eyes. "Is it…a kind of wedding ring?"

He smiled. "In a way."

"Does he have one, too?"

"Yep."

She nodded. "That's nice. It's nice you have a commitment." She glanced back up at the TV. "Seems these days, commitment means less and less ta folks. Get married, get divorced at the drop of a hat…" She blinked and turned back to him. "Oh, I don't mean ta offend…"

"It's okay, Ma. If ever there was a legitimate reason ta divorce, I'd say one a the parties bein queer is right up there." He watched her face carefully. "Does it bother you when I say it like that?"

"Say what, son?"

"Well…'queer.'" He held her gaze. "I'm queer, Ma." Seemed to simple to say it now. He knew that she'd known for years, as had his father, but he'd never just up and said it to them, as if he owned it.

"I know, Jack." She turned her eyes back to the TV set.

"If that…upsets ya…" He cleared his throat. "Well, I'd understand."

"Do I seem upset?" she said, turning her head to look at him again.

"You never do, Ma."

She sighed and reached out a trembling hand to touch his fingers. He gripped her hand tightly, partly so he wouldn't have to see it shake like that. "Jacky, I'll tell ya. It ain't what I would've wanted for ya. It ain't what I would've wished for. I was taught it was evil and wrong, a course. Was just what folks thought. But I'm getting ta be an old lady, and when ya lived as long as me, ya learn that things ain't so clear as yer ma and pa and preacher would have ya believe, nor as clear as they seem when yer young. I won't tell ya I'm glad yer the way you are, mostly cause I'm afraid folks'll be cruel ta you and maybe hurt you for it, and cause it hurts my heart ta see you and yer pa on the outs for it. But I'm awful glad yer so happy, and I only hafta look at you ta know that you are. If this man is what made you happy, then I say God bless him."

Jack blinked away tears and squeezed her fingers again. "Thank you, Ma."

* * *

"How we doin?"

"A hundred and eight so far. Four stillborn, seven breech." Ennis wiped his brow. "Pretty good for…what, three days? Two?" He frowned. "What day is it, anyway?"

Rod was peering at him. "Did you sleep last night, Ennis? After the fire?"

Ennis had to think for a moment. "Dunno. Did you?"

"I went home around four and slept till eleven, when I come back here."

"I cain't remember."

"Then you ain't slept. Don't make me carry you ta bed, boss. You know I'm bigger'n you."

"Ennis!" Axel called from outside. "Sheriff's here!"

Ennis sighed, mustered some clarity of thought, and trudged out into the snow. Walter was waiting for him in the stable. The corner that had burned had already been cleared of the equipment that had been stored there in preparation for repairs. "What's goin on, Walter?"

"Well, Erland says that no one's saying anything about the fire. In fact, nobody's talking about you and Jack at all. It's like they forgot you existed overnight."

Ennis puffed air through his teeth. "That don't sound like a good sign."

"No, it sure don't. Of course, it could just be Erland. They all know he's a deputy, they just think he's a deputy of their opinions. It sure wouldn't be the first time a lawman didn't obey the law, but they probably don't wanna take the chance. He's gonna try and give them the idea that he's not averse to stirring up some illegal trouble against the queers, and maybe they'll open up a bit. But I came to tell you we got some fingerprints off that postcard."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Seems like it was handled by two people other than you and Lizzie. One of them is Calvin Showalter, you know him?"

"Ain't he that mechanic lives out on Darbyville Road?"

"Yeah, that's him. He's definitely a shit-stirrer, Erland says. The other prints are unknown, but they could be another shit-stirrer, or they could just be from the person who sold the card, or stocked it. So Showalter either wrote it or handled it, can't say which. We're working on getting a sample of his handwriting to make a comparison. Of course…even if we prove he sent the card, that doesn't prove he set the fire."

"We know for sure it was set?"

"Arson investigator from the state police says he thinks so. Be a day or so for his full report. Says he found a piece of a particular kind of wick, the kind they use on fireworks to get the timing just right. Don't you fellas store the county fireworks here for the Fourth?"

"Yeah, but we don't store them wicks. They don't put the wicks on em until they're set up in the back field the day they shoot em off."

"Oh. Well anyhow, those wicks burn at a steady rate per inch. So they coulda set the wick up with a bit of newspaper on the end or some kindling and given themselves time to get away."

"Uh-huh." Ennis's brain felt swaddled in cotton batting and soaked in motor oil. His thoughts were sludgy and dull.

"We're working on tracing who sells that kind of wick and who might have bought some. That's the kind of evidence can get us a search warrant to look for wick like it in somebody's house."

"Okay."

Walter peered at him. "You feeling all right, Ennis?"

"I'm jus kinda tired, Walter. Don't mind me."

"Well, I'm going to schedule a patrol car to drive by here every half hour, okay? And if I was you, I'd set up some kind of watch."

"Already done. I got my hands on a rotating watch, two men at a time, for tonight. Fred and Gus have got some fellas together ta help out with that, we're gonna meet tomorrow ta set it up."

"Good." Walter clapped Ennis on the shoulder. "You look like you could use some rest."

Ennis nodded. "Between this and the calvin still goin on and Jack bein gone, I admit I'm feeling a mite overwhelmed."

"Just a mite?" Walter smiled. "We'll catch these guys, Ennis. Chickenshit bastards, setting fires and sending anonymous postcards."

"Amen ta that."

"Okay, I'll be goin. You go take a nap or have some soup or somethin."

"I got Lizzie and Marianne motherin me, Walter, don't need you joinin in." He waved as Walter headed back up to his cruiser and left. Ennis went back to the barn and pulled Rod aside. "I'm fadin fast, Rod. You n Axel n Cady got this covered?"

"Oh you bet, boss."

"And you got it worked out who's gonna stand a watch tonight?"

"Yup. It's gonna be Edgar and Jimbo from eight till two, then Axel and Royce from two till eight."

"You make sure everyone's getting sleep, though."

"Only if you take that advice yourself, Ennis."

Ennis smiled and nodded. "On my way now."

* * *

Liz sat in the living room, staring at the TV, not really seeing what was playing on it. Ennis was still in bed, had been since about three o'clock when he'd come back to the house. She was glad he was getting some rest, after the sleepless night he'd just had and the continual activity of the calving, which was still going on.

She felt like a character in a horror movie, innocently waiting in the supposedly-secure home in the country where nefarious intruders who meant her harm lurked in the surrounding dark. She knew that two of the hands were on watch, patrolling the main grounds with shotguns, but that didn't really reassure her. Whoever-it-was had the nerve to sneak onto a ranch and set a fire right where people were up and about with the calving, after all.

The phone rang; she lunged for it, not wanting to wake Ennis, although he'd probably unplugged it as he did when he didn't want to be disturbed. "Hello?"

"Hey, swee'pea."

"Oh, Jack!" she said, sitting back down. "How are you?" Her throat clenched as she was suddenly overcome with the desperate wish that he was here instead of way the hell out there in Wyoming. If Jack were here, he'd use his magic power of making things seem if not okay, at least manageable, and he'd smile and make Ennis take care of himself and promise that everything would be all right and somehow make you believe him.

"Well, I been better," he was saying. "Is Ennis there?"

"Uh…he's sleeping," she said, her mind jumping ahead. She didn't feel it was her place to tell Jack about the fire; she wasn't sure how much Ennis wanted him to know.

"Sleeping? It's only nine o'clock…oh, is he up at all hours with the calvin?"

"Yeah!" she said, pouncing on this perfectly reasonable rationalization. "He's been up and down. He was exhausted so I made him go to bed early. I can wake him, though, if you want to talk to him."

"No, don't wake him. Bad enough I ain't there ta share the load, I ain't gonna wake him up when he needs the rest."

"How's your mother?"

He sighed. "Well, you was right, honey. She's got Parkinson's disease."

"Oh, Jack…I'm so sorry."

"The doctor says it's real early yet, and there's some medication that could help her. But her lungs are all gunked up from livin out there on that Godforsaken ranch so that's gotta clear up before he starts that medication, she's gonna be in the hospital at least until New Year's."

"And you're worried about what happens then, aren't you?"

"I cain't let her go back there. I'm gonna hafta go back up ta Lightning Flat before too long ta talk ta the old man, spend some time. He'll barely listen ta me then, he sure as shit won't listen ta me if I'm makin pronouncements from down here. Called ta tell him about Ma's diagnosis and barely got three words outta him, ain't no convincin him a nothin that way."

"What are you hoping to convince him of?"

"I hardly know myself. I think what he oughta do is sell that ranch and move both a them down here ta Gillette, near her docs, where they can get a house with decent insulation and close ta hospitals and help. He knows damned near everything about ranchin, he don't hafta be idle. He could work as a foreman, or a trainer, or a consultant. Hell, me n Ennis know folks could find him a job, sure enough. I just don't know if he'll go for it."

"Sometimes people surprise you with what they'll do when someone they care about needs help."

"I sure's hell hope so." He sighed again. "Times like this I surely miss Ennis. I know y'all think that I'm Mr. Sunny-Side-Up, saying everythin's okay. Whatcha don't know is I'm only able ta be like that cause I got him backin me up."

"Why don't I go wake him, Jack, I'm sure he won't mind…"

"No, don't you dare, Lizzie, I swear I will put you over my knee if you do. Man needs his rest and I can survive for a day without his sparklin phone conversation a one-syllable words."

She chuckled. "All right, I'll leave him be, but I'll tell him you called. You want me to give him a message?"

"Jus tell him I'll call him tomorrow night. And you can tell him what I told you about Ma."

"Okay." She hesitated. "I know he misses you. I do, too."

"Thanks, swee'pea. I don't know how long I'm gonna hafta stay out here, and I miss home a whole lot."

"Well…I hope your mother feels better soon."

"Me too, Lizzie. G'night."

"Goodnight, Jack." She hung up and let her head fall back against the couch. _They say bad things come in threes,_ she thought. _I don't even want to think about what the third thing's going to be._


	19. Chapter 19

Ennis got in the truck the next morning to head into town, butterflies flapping about in his stomach. On such an occasion, meaning one involving other people, he would usually have relied heavily on Jack. Jack was his voice, Jack was his public face, and Jack was his reassurance. _Almos forty years old, bub,_ he said to himself. _Bout time you did some shit on your own, huh?_

The day before, he'd called Fred Trimble and asked if he could gather a few of their friends together to help maintain a steady two-man watch on the ranch overnight. They simply didn't have enough men on staff to keep such a schedule going while still conducting normal operations, especially during the calving. If he could just get one additional man per night, that would let him keep up a steady patrol. He was on his way to the church; he hoped Fred had been able to get at least ten.

He thought that might be possible. There was Fred himself, and Grant, and Gus. Paul and Roger, probably. Pastor Mike might even jump in. Rory and his son Deke would probably show up. That ought to be enough.

Ennis pulled up to the church and climbed out, taking a deep breath and gathering what little he had in the way of Jackless interpersonal skills. He went in the back entrance and down the stairs to the fellowship hall underneath the sanctuary, but when he reached the doorway he stopped dead and could go no further.

There were at least fifty men in there, sitting on chairs and milling around with cups of coffee in their hands.

Everyone turned to look at him. Fred, up near the coffeepot, gave a wave. Ennis couldn't seem to unstick his feet, nor shut his mouth, which was hanging awkwardly open. "Uh…Fred?"

"C'mon, Ennis. We've been waiting on you."

Ennis somehow managed to walk to the front. He ducked his head and spoke quietly to Fred. "This ain't all for patrollin at the ranch," he said.

"Sure is. Put the word out and got quite a response."

Ennis shook his head. "I cain't believe there's so many."

"Everyone's heard about the fire, and the threats," Fred said, low. "It ain't right, not in our town." Ennis was still speechless. "Well? You gonna give us walking papers, or what?"

"Oh, yeah. Guess so." Ennis cleared his throat and faced the men. Most of the faces were familiar, but a few were not or just barely so. _Total strangers wanna help me n Jack's ranch?_ "Uh…I thank y'all for comin down ta help out. I ain't counted on so many…don't rightly know how ta set things up."

Grant jumped up like he'd been waiting for Ennis to give him a cue. He was holding a clipboard. "Well, Rod told me you did two shifts of two men each last night, right? So let's just keep on doing that, huh?" Ennis nodded. "Okay." Grant held up the clipboard. "I've written down the days, and Shift 1 and Shift 2, so you all come up and sign up for which one you want, hear?" General murmurings of assent. "That sit right by you, Ennis? I'll make a copy for you so you'll know who's out there."

"Sure enough," Ennis said. Everyone was getting up and crowding around Grant. Ennis took Fred's arm and drew him aside. "Fred…this is real good n all, but I don't know some a these fellas. What if them Forrester folks sent…I dunno, like a spy? Be a perfect cover, ta pretend ta keep watch and then start some shit."

"We thought of that, Ennis. I know you don't know everybody, but between me, Grant and Gus, we do. You trust us, then?" Ennis nodded. "Okay, then. Careful you don't get too paranoid, or we'll find you out there at the ranch boarding up the windows, hoarding rifles and stockpiling canned beans." He grinned, and Ennis couldn't help but smile back.

To Ennis's surprise, as men wrote their names on Grant's clipboard, a lot of them stopped over to say hello or introduce themselves, to his relief. He doubted an infiltrator would do as much. "Del Mar!" said a red-haired, hearty-looking man in his sixties. "Nice to meetcha! I'm Lars Borrickson, Rod's dad!"

Ennis shook the man's hand, seeing the resemblance. "Nice ta meet ya, Lars. Your son's a helluva guy."

"Told me about your troubles! Gutless bastards sneaking around starting trouble! Figured I'd come and lend a hand!" Ennis wondered if the man always spoke with exclamation points at the end of every sentence.

"Well, I surely appreciate that," he said.

"If any of them come sneaking around on my watch they'll be sorry! I may be an old fart but I still got some fight in me!" Lars finished, clapping Ennis on the shoulder hard enough to throw him off balance.

Man after man came up to say hello or introduce himself. Ennis was starting to feel like a one-man reception line. All he wanted to do was go home and get back to the calving, put his head down and not think about hostile gangs of homophobes, nor of the fact that at the end of what would surely be a long day, he would have to retire to a quiet, empty bedroom and sleep without Jack's strong arms around him and Jack's body entwined with his own.

Grant pulled Ennis over to a group of three men he didn't know. "Ennis, I want you meet my cousin Bo and…"

Grant's introductions were interrupted by a loud crash from upstairs, followed by the sound of screeching tires. Everyone froze. "What the hell was that?" said Pastor Greenfield, his brow furrowing in concern. As one, the group headed for the stairs and pounded up to the sanctuary.

The first thing Ennis noticed was the breeze. There was a cold draft coming from somewhere…actually, from the gaping, jagged hole in one of the tall stained-glass windows that lined the sanctuary walls. "Motherfuckers threw a brick!" someone yelled, and sure enough, there was a brick wrapped in paper lying on the floor amidst the shards of broken glass.

Pastor Greenfield immediately started forward, but Grant held him back. "No, don't touch it! Sheriff'll want to get fingerprints or something." Grant pulled his gloves out of his back pocket and put them on while Greenfield went to the broken window and looked out. He shook his head, then slammed one fist against the wall in frustration.

"This is a house of God, you sons of bitches!" he yelled out the window, drawing a few nervous chuckles. Ennis felt like he'd turned to stone. _This is on my head,_ he thought. _Bastards broke a window in my damned church. Cause we're meetin here. Fuck me._

Grant had picked up the brick with gloved hands. He carefully unwrapped the paper from around the brick and unfolded it. His expression didn't change. "DIE, QUEER LOVERS," he read. Angry mutterings rose from the group. "Well, that sure is original. You fellas quakin in your boots yet?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go home and hide under my fuckin bed," Gus grumbled.

"Pastor, I'm awful sorry bout this…" Ennis stammered as Mike rejoined the group. He held up a hand to forestall Ennis's apology.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Ennis."

"But…the window…"

"We're insured."

"I dunno, Mike," Grant said. "Does the church really have Asshole Insurance?"

Ennis snorted. "Wish there was such a thing. I'd be collectin a bundle roundabout now."

* * *

Jack was at the hospital by nine o'clock. He hadn't had the most restful of nights. He was already preoccupied by his mother's condition, and his concern for what was going on at home, and now he couldn't stop rehearsing what he might say to his father when they finally discussed what was to be done…whenever that might be.

And he hadn't gotten to talk to Ennis. He'd wanted to tell him about his mother's diagnosis, and the likelihood that he'd be here a good deal longer than a week, and hear his thoughts about what could be done for her after she was released from the hospital. More than anything, he'd just wanted to hear his voice. Hear that low, sexy half-mumbled voice and shut his eyes and imagine him sitting up in bed, maybe bare-chested, his glasses slid down on his nose, maybe reading that new Ludlum thriller, maybe just reading "Field & Stream."

He was stopped in the hospital corridor by Dr. Reeves, his mother's internist. "Mr. Twist, can I have a word?"

"Sure, doc." They stepped to the nurse's station.

"I just wanted to give you a heads-up that your mother's condition has worsened some overnight."

He frowned. "Worsened?"

"It's now clear that she does have a respiratory infection, and it'll likely get worse before it gets better. I've started her on antibiotics, and we ought to see some improvement by the evening. If we don't, there are other treatment options." Reeves seemed to read Jack's concern on his face. "Don't worry, we'll get her cleared up in no time."

Jack nodded. "There's still her Parkinson's…"

"Well, I don't want to start her on the Levodopa until we get this infection cleared up. I'm hoping we can start it in a few days." He hesitated. "But there is something else. I'm concerned about her environment after she checks out. I understand that your parents live up in Lightning Flat, on a ranch?"

"Yeah."

"I'm worried that isn't the best place for her going forward. This kind of respiratory infection is generally indicative of the kind of chronic breathing problems that often plague people your mother's age, Mr. Twist. When that starts to happen, it's time to consider relocating."

"Like, to Arizona? No way they'd go that far."

Reeves chuckled. "Well, they don't have to go that far, but it'd be better to be in town, near medical help, in a house with better climate control and less irritants in the air such as you find on a ranch…dirt, pollens, hay, animal dander, that sort of thing."

Jack ran a hand through his hair. "I jus don't know what ta do, Doc. This is all happenin so sudden, and it ain't like they can just up n leave in a week's time."

"No, but…you might want to consider finding your mother some kind of temporary situation for when she's discharged, here in town where she can easily get to her followup appointments."

"Like a nursing home? I ain't puttin her in one a those places! Those are for folks who're dyin, or gettin ready to!"

"No, she doesn't need nearly that level of care, but there are several residential facilities designed specifically for seniors, where there is help available on-site but it isn't a full-time care situation."

Jack considered this. "That might not be so bad. For the time bein, I mean."

"If I were you, I'd look into it."

Jack nodded. "I will. Thanks, Doc." He turned and went into his mother's room. She was half-reclined, holding up a magazine. She turned and smiled when he entered, but he could tell immediately that she was feeling worse. Her breathing had a labored quality that alarmed him.

"Mornin, Ma," he said, bending to kiss her forehead.

"Mornin, Jacky," she said. "Didja see my doc in the hall, there?"

"I did. He says you got yerself sick. I know the truth, though. Yer jus fakin, ain'tcha? Jus wanna lie on yer back and be waited on fer awhile, ya can't fool me."

"Oh, stop it," she said, swatting at him with the magazine.

"Brought ya somethin," he said, bringing out a small plastic bag from his coat pocket. He reached inside and withdrew a pack of playing cards. "Think you can still beat me at gin rummy?"

Grace got a mischievous little twinkle in her eye. "With one eye shut."

* * *

Liz sighed. "Want some popcorn?" Ennis grunted. "Is that 'no' or 'yes?'"

"Huh?"

"Popcorn."

"Oh. I s'pose."

"Ennis, it's New Year's Eve. I know we have a lot on our minds, but let's at least have a beer and watch something with a lot of explosions in it."

Another grunt. Liz didn't really want popcorn anymore. She got up and flipped through the channels until she found a TV station airing "The Great Escape." She didn't much care for it, but it was one of Ennis's favorites so she left it on and went back to the couch. Ennis was still sitting there, arms crossed, unresponsive.

"So…who's out there now?" she asked.

"Uh…Rod's dad and Gus."

"It's kinda weird. I mean, we're in here and they're out there…like they're our bodyguards or something. I guess they are." Grunt. Liz sighed. "Would it kill you to say something? C'mon, Ennis, work with me, here. I know things are a bit pear-shaped right now, but Peter offered to take me dancing in Burlington and fill me full of champagne and I turned him down to hang out here with you."

Ennis cut his eyes briefly towards her, but she caught the slight crease of amusement at their corners. "Bad move, city gal."

"I'm starting to think so!"

"Fraid I ain't such good company."

She put her hand on his arm. "Ennis, I know you're tired and stressed out. Don't feel like you have to stay up on my account. You need your rest. You've been out in the barn all day."

He sighed, then let his arms fall to his sides and turned slightly towards her. "I am tired, Lizzie, but…aw, hell. I'm kinda hopin Jack'll call. Y'know."

"At midnight, you mean?"

He nodded. "I tried ta call him earlier but he wasn't in his room. Probly spending all the time with his ma that he can." He paused, staring at his hands. "I sure hate ta tell him about the fire, and what happened in town today. He's got enough ta worry about, I don't want him ta worry about what's goin on here anyway."

"I think that ship has sailed. He already knows about the postcard, so he'll be worrying anyway."

"A fella can only take so much, swee'pea."

She cocked her head. "You talking about Jack, or yourself?"

He smiled a little. "Both, I think."

* * *

By quarter to midnight, Ennis was starting to lose hope that Jack would call, but no sooner had the thought that he ought to just go to sleep passed through his mind than the phone rang. He picked it up before the first ring was over. "Hello?"

"Yeah, I'm lookin for a tall, handsome fella with brown eyes and a shy little smile? Kinda looks like Steve McQueen? Don't s'pose you got anythin like that just lyin around, do ya?"

Ennis couldn't help the grin that spread across his face at the sound of that voice, nor the warmth that eased his tense muscles. "Dunno. What price you offerin?"

Jack laughed. "How about a bottle a whiskey and the best blowjob you ever had?"

"Shit, who needs the whiskey?"

"How you doin, cowboy?"

"I'm hangin in there. You?"

"The same. Spent most a the day with Ma. She's got a respiratory infection, but by the time I left she was feelin better. They wanna start her on them drugs for the Parkinson's in a coupla days as long as her lungs is clear. I dunno, she cain't be too bad off, she beat the pants off me at gin rummy. How's the calvin?"

"Goin real good. Couple more days, I think." Ennis hesitated. "But that ain't the main thing. Jack…we've had more trouble here."

There was a pause, and Ennis could see Jack in his mind's eye, sitting up straighter, that hail-fellow-well-met grin falling from his face, getting serious. "What kinda trouble?"

"The other night? When we talked? Someone set fire ta the stables."

Silence. "What? _What?_"

"Now, we got it put out real fast, weren't much damage…"

"Was anyone hurt? The horses?" Jack's voice had taken on an urgent, edgy quality that made Ennis want to get up and walk around.

"No one got hurt, the horses are all fine, just slow down and lemme tell ya, okay?" He could hear Jack pacing. "Sit down, willya? Y'know you cain't listen when yer pacin like that." The pacing slowed, then stopped.

"Jesus Christ, Ennis…" He sounded pinched-off, like his throat was closing up.

"Rod n Cady had it damn near put out by the time the fire department got here. No one got hurt. Walter had the state police arson investigator, they got some good leads, everythin's under control." Ennis shut his eyes, then plunged ahead. "There's more, bud."

"There's _more?_ What else could there be?"

"Well, me n Fred and some fellas got together at the church ta set up a night patrol around the place, y'know, in shifts and such with the hands. While we was there, somebody threw a brick through the church window. Had a note on it that said 'Die, Queer Lovers.'"

Jack was very quiet. "What happened to our good town, Ennis? What happened ta that place where it was okay for us ta be together?"

"I know, it's bad, but…"

"Bad? It's a fuckin nightmare come down on our heads, it's a damned siege! You're havin ta post guards at the ranch like we're behind enemy lines and not even our fuckin _church_ is safe and…"

"Jack, just listen a second, willya?"

He heard Jack sigh again. "What?"

"I asked Fred ta round up a few fellas ta help patrol, right? I get ta the church…there was more'n fifty guys there, Jack. Some I knew, some I didn't. That many guys, all ready ta help us out."

"Really?" Jack said, sounding hopeful.

"Yeah, really. Two of 'em are out there right now, we got enough ta have patrols for three weeks without no one ever having ta take two shifts." Ennis realized he was gripping the handset so tightly that his knuckles were white; he eased up a little. "So yeah, there's some bad shit, but Walter's gonna figure it out and we still got friends. Maybe more'n we knew about. So I don't want you worryin' none."

Jack laughed bitterly at that. "No, why should I worry? Just cause my man and my ranch are under fuckin _attack_ ain't no reason ta worry." He said nothing for a moment. "Fifty guys?"

"Yeah. More'n fifty."

"Damn." When he spoke again, Ennis could hear the smile in his voice. "Well shit, Ennis, it ain't like you ta look on the bright side like that. I'd'a thought you'd be too busy blamin yourself and broodin'."

"Well…guess I gotta be both you and me around here these days." They sat there, not speaking, just listening to each other's breathing. "Goddamn, but I wish you was here."

"Me, too. And I wish you was here."

"We just cain't catch no breaks, can we?"

"Never rains but it pours. It's just purely fuckin tragic that I gotta be way out here when you're havin trouble at home, and you gotta be out there when I got troubles here."

"No way round it. Ain't like we had a choice." Ennis shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the headboard. He waited, but Jack said nothing. "One of us gotta say it first, Jack."

"I know," Jack said, sounding low and defeated. "I don't wanna. Maybe if I don't say it it won't hafta be true."

"Jack…"

"No, let me." He heard Jack sigh again, deep and mournful. "Ennis, ain't no way you can come out here with all that shit goin on."

Ennis kept his eyes closed, lightly thumping his head repeatedly against the headboard in frustration. "Yeah. Fuckin sucks. But yer right, no way in hell I'm gonna leave with things so fucked up."

"Damn, but I was lookin forward ta seein you."

Ennis suddenly felt like he might cry. He swallowed hard and pushed it down. "Me too, darlin."

"Wanted you ta meet my Ma. She's…aw, shit. She's such a peach, Ennis. She wants ta meet you, too. She said God bless you for makin me happy n such."

"Jus returnin the favor."

"Y'know what I did? I told her I was queer."

Ennis frowned. "Uh…didn't she already know that?"

"Well, yeah, but I never sat down and looked her in the eye and said it, y'know? Somethin about that felt good, felt strong. Like it weren't some kinda thing that everyone knew n nobody talked about no more, somethin ta keep in the broom closet like an old pair a galoshes."

"What'd she say, then?"

"She said she's glad I'm happy. And I am, y'know." Jack's voice took a sudden turn into fervent sincerity. "Even with her bein sick and fuckin bigots in the town and Bobby and all them ordinary worries on top…I ain't never thought I'd be this happy, and I am the fuckin luckiest sumbitch in the world cause I get ta be with the only person I ever loved in my whole sorry-ass life and if that means I gotta deal with burnin stables and assholes throwin bricks and my fuckin bastard of a father hatin my guts and God knows what else then I'll do it, cause it's more'n worth it." His words tumbled out in a rush, as if he'd been holding all of that inside, waiting for the right moment to spill it out of himself.

Ennis's chest felt tight. "Aw, darlin," he whispered.

"Happy New Year, Ennis," Jack said.

Ennis glanced at the clock to see that it was, indeed, midnight. "Same ta you. In two hours, anyhow."

"If I was there I'd be kissin you silly."

He smiled. "Like you'd'a waited for midnight ta start in on that."

"Probly not. We'd already be all naked and worn out from all the fuckin and I'd hafta drag my eyelids open just ta give you that midnight kiss before we both passed out from exhaustion after goin at each other fer hours at a time."

"That's one helluva imagination ya got there."

"You want me ta tell you what I been imaginin? I will, ya know. Tell ya every little bit. I bet I could get ya off from two time zones away."

"How many times I gotta tell ya I ain't gonna do no phone sex talk, Jack?"

"Why not? No one's listenin."

"Ain't the point. Jus…feels wrong."

"Betcha it'd feel like I was right there with ya."

"That's why it'd feel wrong. Might feel that way for a minute, but then it'd feel worse afterwards and you ain't really here. I'll wait till I see ya. Then you jus better look out."

"Lord knows when that'll be."

"Gotta take one day at a time, bud. It ain't like we're gonna have nothin ta do but sit around moonin over each other. We both got plenty ta do."

"Tomorrow I'm gonna start lookin into somewhere Ma can stay after she gets outta the hospital. I'll hafta go on back home and pick up more clothes and things for her. Probly stay a day or so, work on the old man."

"Say, bud…gimme the address a yer hotel." Jack read it off and Ennis copied it into the flyleaf of his book underneath the phone number.

"Why you want the address?"

"I was thinkin…why don't I send you a couple photo albums? That one with the red cover has a lot a pictures a Bobby in it, and the big brown one's got some a the ranch and us. Thought your Ma might like ta see em."

"Aw, that'd be great. She'd love ta see em. Why didn't I think ta bring those?"

"Well, you left in kind of a big-ass hurry."

"Awful sweet a you ta think a that, Ennis."

"I try'n be sweet now n then, just ta keep you guessin. I'll take em ta the post office tomorrow and send em overnight so you get em on the third, okay?"

"Dunno when I'm goin up north again. Probly not for a few days."

Ennis played with the phone cord, sensing the conversation coming to an end and wanting to stretch it out a little more. "Jack, I…think on ya a lot. All the time."

"Yeah?" There was that little smile in his voice again.

"Damn distractin, is what it is. Rod'll poke me and I'll a been jus standin there starin inta space thinkin on ya like some lovesick kid daydreamin about his sweetheart. He probly thinks I'm losin my marbles or somethin."

"Is that what I am?" Jack teased. "Yer sweetheart?"

Ennis felt himself flush with embarrassment. "Jus a fuckin figure a speech."

He chuckled. "Well, I been thinkin on ya too, sweetheart."

"You cut that out, now."

"Whatever you say…sweetheart."

"Don't make me give you a smack, you know I will." It was hard to sound gruff and irritable when he was smiling.

"You best get ta bed, Ennis. I know you been up n down with them calves, and all this trouble probly keepin you up. Cain't have ya getting sick."

"I aim ta sleep in tomorrow and no mistake." He sighed. "Well…g'night, darlin."

"G'night, Ennis."

"Call me tomorrow," he said, knowing that Jack would, anyway.

"Will do. Sleep tight."

"Bye." Ennis hung up with a sad sigh. _Fuckin small-minded assholes, stirrin up trouble n keepin me here when all I wanna do is get on the next plane, get myself ta Gillette and kiss that man until he cain't breathe._

* * *

"What kinda paper, again?"

"The tractor-feed…yeah, that one, with the holes on the sides."

"What kinda fuckin paper is this? Looks like someone went nuts with the hole puncher."

"It goes in the printer. It's got wheels…no, get two." Liz turned back to the woman behind the counter. "Can I order that ink in bulk? I'm going through it pretty fast with all the invoices and such."

"I can order a couple of boxes just for you. Get ten percent off for that much."

"Oh, super."

"You know, they're starting to make special invoices that can go in the printer. Tractor-feed, like the blank paper."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Bring me in one of your regular invoices and I'll see if we can get some like them."

"I don't care if they're like them or not, if I could print them like that it'd be a whole lot easier than what I've been doing."

Ennis came up with an armload of paper and envelopes. "Okay. What else?" Liz saw him look past her and frown. She turned to see a sheriff's deputy she didn't know walk in, looking around with purpose. He spotted them and hurried over. "Jesus, what now?" Ennis muttered. "Howdy, Brad. What's up?"

"Ennis, uh…you better come outside with me."

Liz followed them out, nearly colliding with Ennis as he stopped directly in front of her. "Motherfuckers," he spat. Liz looked around him to see their truck, sitting on four flat tires.

"Slashed," the deputy said. "How long you been in there?"

"I dunno. Fifteen minutes?"

"Pretty damn brazen to do this in broad daylight where anyone might have seen." Ennis started towards the truck but the deputy held him back. "No, don't touch it. Might be able to get fingerprints. Can you guys get a ride home?"

Liz nodded. "I'll call Peter. The office is just a few blocks away."

By the time Peter came walking up, still in his white doctor's coat and looking anxious, there were two more deputies on the scene. Given the pattern of vandalism and harrassment they'd been experiencing, this was a good deal more important than a garden-variety tire-slashing. One of the deputies was canvassing the area, looking for witnesses, and another was dusting the truck for prints. "I can't believe this," Peter said, joining them on the sidewalk. "They did this out here in the open? Ballsy."

"Stupid, more like," Liz said. "Someone has to have seen something. They must be pissed off that the ranch is being guarded now to pull a stunt like this."

Peter turned towards her, his jaw set. "Liz, I really think you ought to come stay with me until all this has blown over."

Ennis nodded. "I been sayin that all along."

"I'm not leaving!" she exclaimed. "I won't leave Ennis there alone."

"Honey, he won't be alone. There's always two men on patrol, and besides, Ennis can take care of himself."

"And because I'm a woman, naturally I can't."

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have! I refuse to run from these fuckers like a scared little girl, Peter. I am staying right where I am."

"What if they get even more pissed off and try something worse? What if they find a way to get to the house?"

Liz took a deep breath, hating what she was about to say, even more so for its truth. "And if someone wants to come after me, you really think I'd safer with you than with Ennis?"

"Aw, Lizzie, that ain't fair," Ennis said. Peter just looked hurt.

"No, it isn't. Peter…I'm sorry, sweetie, but…you're a doctor. You don't even _own_ a gun."

"The point isn't that I'm some gladiator to protect you, the point is you'll be in less danger at my house than at the ranch." He paused. "And I do so own a gun. It's…somewhere…"

"I'm with Peter on this."

"No one's asking you, Ennis!"

"It's my fuckin house! I said from the start you oughta stay at the doc's!"

"I will not be shoved off like some swooning damsel in distress because someone slashed the truck's tires!"

"I only want you to be safe!" Peter exclaimed.

"No, you only want to get me under your roof and keep me there, which is what you've been after for months!" Liz burst out. Peter's face slammed shut and she immediately regretted it.

"I'm sorry my concern is so offensive to you, Liz." He glanced at Ennis. "I have to get back to my patients. I'm sure one of these deputies can give you a lift home." He turned and strode back down the street.

Liz watched him go until he rounded the corner, her stomach rolling. She turned and found Ennis eyeing her, one eyebrow cocked. "Don't give me that eyebrow," she muttered.

"Nice goin there. Learn that in Cosmo, huh?"

"Do I butt in when you and Jack fight?"

Ennis blinked. "Is that some kinda trick question?"

"Okay, so I butt in. Don't feel you have to return the favor."

He shrugged. "Have it your way, city gal."

* * *

Jack sat in his hotel room the next morning, a notepad before him. It was labeled "Housing for Ma." Other than that, it was blank, and had remained so for the last half hour as he pored through the yellow pages. He'd found nursing homes, he'd found apartments, he'd found something called "assisted living," God only knew what the hell that was and how much assistance was involved in the living. He didn't even know what part of town these places were in, if it was nice, what was nearby, or anything.

He knew what he had to do. He'd known from the time he'd sat down. He'd just been hoping to avoid it. _Just pick someplace and go there. Check it out._ He didn't have that kind of time. He felt bad enough being away from his mother this long, he wanted to get to the hospital as soon as he could, and pretty soon he'd have to head north…

Jack opened his address book and stared at the phone, willing a better idea to pop into his head. None did. The bottom line was that he couldn't justify ignoring such a valuable source of information just because he was uncomfortable with it.

He picked up the handset, took a deep breath, and dialed. Part of him hoped no one would answer, but she did answer, on the third ring.

He shut his eyes. "Alma? This is Jack."


	20. Chapter 20

Jack waited, holding his breath. There was silence for a few beats.

"Jack," Alma said. It wasn't a greeting, nor an accusatiom, but simply a repetition of the name, as you might repeat back a number someone gave you over the phone.

"Yeah, it's me."

"What's goin on?" she said, a note of alarm coming into her voice. "Is Junior okay? Somethin happen?"

"No, no. Everythin's okay." He saw no reason to trouble her with the goings-on at the ranch. "It's…that ain't why I'm callin."

"Why you callin? Where's Ennis?"

"He's back at home. I'm, uh…I'm here. In Gillette."

Another beat of silence. "You're _here?_"

"Yeah. Stayin at the Holiday Inn downtown."

"What're you doin here?" she asked, her voice edging towards strident. _Why, I came here ta invade your life and spread around more a my queer voodoo all over you, Alma,_ Jack thought. That's what it sounded like she was afraid of.

"It's my mother. Ya might know my folks live up in Lightning Flat? Well, she's been doin poorly and I had ta fly out and bring her here to a specialist. Turns out she's got Parkinson's disease. Plus her lungs're gunked up; she's in the hospital right now gettin better."

"Oh," Alma said. "That's…I'm, uh, sorry ta hear that." She cleared her throat. "So why didn't Ennis come with ya?"

"He couldn't. The heifers're calvin at home and he cain't get away. Hopin he can come join me once that's over'n done with." _If them fuckin hatemongers don't burn the ranch ta the ground first._ "Know he'd sure like ta see Francie."

"Uh-huh."

Jack steeled himself. "Alma, reason I called is…I hate ta impose, but I was hopin you might be able ta help me with somethin."

"Help you?" She sounded dubious.

"Yeah. When my ma's released from the hospital, the doc don't want her goin back ta the ranch right away. I'm tryin ta find her someplace ta live in the meantime, some kinda place for older folks that ain't no nursin home. I don't know what I'm lookin for, and you've lived here a coupla years. I was thinking ya might give me some advice."

He heard her sigh. "I see."

"I know I ain't got no right ta ask nothin a you, Alma, but this ain't fer me, it's fer my ma. Whatever bad blood you n me got, it ain't her fault, and she ought not t'suffer for it. She's a sweet lady and I'm tryin ta do right by her since my dad cain't seem ta step up."

Silence. Jack wondered what she was thinking. Was she weighing her dislike for him against the guilt of refusing to help an old woman in need? Was she wondering if this meant she'd have to see him around town? Was she resenting his intrusion on her home turf? "Lemme make some calls," she said, finally. "Where can I reach you?"

Jack gave her the number of his mother's room at the hospital as well as the hotel number. "Alma, I cain't thank you enough…"

"You're welcome," she said flatly, cutting him enough. "I'll be in touch. Probably tomorrow, seein's it's a holiday today." She hung up. Not exactly the warmest, fuzziest conversation he'd ever had, but Jack felt relieved. Could've been worse.

* * *

Ennis came into the kitchen just after seven to be greeted by two surprises: Lars Borrickson sitting at the kitchen table eating hashbrowns, and Marianne at the stove. He addressed the latter first, because he was pretty sure he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. "Marianne, didn't I tell ya not ta come in until all this blows over?"

She handed him a cup of coffee. "Yes, you told me. What do you want for breakfast?"

He sighed. Like talking to a brick wall. "Ham n eggs, please." Marianne nodded and went back to the stove. Ennis sat down at the table. "What're you doin here, Lars? You weren't on watch last night."

Lars held up a finger until he could chew and swallow the mouthful of hashbrowns. "Nothin else ta do! Came over bit after midnight ta see if I could lend another hand!"

"Ain'tcha had no sleep?"

He flapped a hand. "The older you get, the less you sleep. Guess it's God's way a letting us make the most of what few days we got left! Ha! So I kept watch with the other fellas, then this pretty young lady offered me some coffee n breakfast and I just can't say no to a pretty young lady. Hope ya don't mind!"

Ennis shook his head. "Nah. Nice a you ta help out."

"So! My son tells me you're queer!" Lars said.

There was a clatter as Marianne dropped her spatula. Ennis inhaled a mouthful of coffee and choked, spluttering and coughing as Lars hammered him on the back with a wide, callused hand.

"You all right there, son?" Lars asked, leaning over him. "Go down the wrong pipe?"

"Startled me a bit," Ennis rasped, regaining control of his breathing. "Jus…didn't expect that."

"You're red as the side of a barn! Did I embarrass you? I do that, sometimes."

"I jus…" Ennis held up a hand and took another deep breath. "Don't care fer that term."

"What? Queer?"

Ennis flinched again. "Yeah."

"Well, are you or aren't you?"

"I don't see that it's any a yer business, if you'll pardon me," Ennis said, wishing he'd stayed in bed for another half an hour. He surely hadn't planned on discussing his personal life with a crazy Norwegian he barely knew.

"Let me tell you a story, son," Lars said. Ennis didn't wonder how he'd become "son" to this man over less than a day's acquaintance. It was clear that to Lars, "son" was any man younger than himself. "About my best friend in the whole damned world. John Lawson was his name. We came up through boot camp together, got shipped overseas together, tramped across half of France together. Always wondered why he never showed around pictures of his sweetheart back home, like the other guys did. Took him three years to trust me enough to tell me that his sweetheart was a blond-haired farm boy named Eugene. Never forgot how his hands were shaking holding his cigarette as he told me. His eyes were so full of fear, fear that I'd reject him or beat him or turn him in or God knows what. All I could think was that this man, who I'd fought with and saved and been saved by and loved, dammit, was now afraid that I'd hurt him because of who he was and that wasn't right. Nothing should make that much of a damned difference. But I was young and dumb and I didn't know how to say things, so all I did was hug him and told him that now we really had to live through the war so that my Edna could meet him, and his Eugene could meet me. He cried, he was so relieved."

Ennis listened, transfixed. Marianne had stopped cooking and was leaning on the countertop, watching Lars' face. "Didja meet Eugene?" Ennis asked.

Lars nodded. "But not with John. A sniper got him. I held him and watched as the life ran out of him." A tear ran down Lars' cheek and he brushed it away absently. "I got home after the war and I took John's tags to Eugene in Minnesota. Come to find out that because they'd had to keep themselves secret, no one knew who he was, so no one had told him John was dead. He'd been wondering why he hadn't had a letter in so long. I had to tell him his man wasn't ever coming home." Lars shook his head. "Him and me cried together, then we talked about John, and I still visit him once a year when I go back to Wisconsin to see my sister. He and his fella own an apple orchard. Best damned cider you ever had in your life, like to bite your lips off when you drink it." Lars met Ennis's eyes. "Son, I don't know your story, or what you and your fella have been through. But I can see that you live together here with friends around and family that love you, and John never got that chance. I am sixty-five years old and I have lost my ability to bullshit. You're telling me that you live here with your man, who I'm told you loved all your life, and made a commitment to him, and you don't care for the term 'queer?'"

"It's…uh…" Ennis didn't know what to say. He felt ashamed of himself.

"You're queer, son, and you'd better own it even if you don't say it. Because if you don't, you are spitting in the face of all the men like John that came before, men who risked real death and jail and God knows what else, men who didn't get to live in a time like we do, when things are changing. Men who weren't so lucky to have what you've got here." Lars stood up and put a hand on Ennis's shoulder. "You be proud, son. Be proud you're brave enough to stand up and live honest with the partner God made for you." He patted him a few times. "But now I've jabbered on long enough. Rod would have told me to shut my big yap ages ago! Ha! I'll be off. Thank you for the breakfast, ma'am. I'll be seeing you soon, Ennis, and next time you talk to your man you tell him hello from this old codger, you hear?"

Ennis nodded. "I surely will." He watched Lars as he put on his coat and hat, then headed out the front door to his truck.

Marianne was back at the stove. "Well," she said. "I guess he told you a thing or two."

Ennis grunted. "Barely know the guy, and he's in here in my kitchen lecturin me about bein queer? Got some nerve, is what he got. Who's he think he is, anyway?"

Marianne set a plate in front of him. "I believe he thinks he's a man with something he wants to teach," she said. "And if he can't teach it to the world, at least he can try to teach you."

* * *

"I don't want ta go inta no nursin home, Jacky."

"Oh, no, Ma! I'd never put you in one a those places. You ain't so sick as all that. Doc jus don't want you ta go back ta the ranch right away. I'm gonna find you someplace nice ta stay for a bit."

"All by myself?"

"I'll be around."

"You cain't stay forever. What about your ranch?"

"The ranch is in good hands. And I wouldn't put you anywhere that you'd be all alone."

"I think I'd like for there ta be people around."

"We'll see what we can do." The phone next to his mother's bed rang. Jack picked it up, knowing who it probably was. "Hello?"

"Jack? It's Alma."

"Thanks for getting back ta me."

"My friend Louanne works in the kinda place you mean…like an apartment house for older folks? Regular apartments, like, but there's nurses and such there, too."

"Yeah, that's just what I mean."

"I talked ta Louanne and she says they got some vacancies. You wanna go out there n have a look?"

"Oh, you bet I do. You wanna gimme the address?"

Alma hesitated. "Be easier if I jus come n get you. You at Campbell?"

"Yeah," Jack said, stunned.

"Wait outside fer me. Be there in ten minutes." She hung up.

"Who was that?" his mother asked.

"Oh…a friend," Jack said, glad he didn't stumble over the word. "Mighta found a place you can stay. I'm gonna go look at it, okay? I'll be back soon as I can."

Grace nodded. "Tell your friend thanks for me."

"Will do."

Jack went to the hospital lobby and stood near the windows; it was too damned cold to wait outside. He had no idea what kind of car he was looking for, or why Alma had been so quick to leap to his aid. He'd expected to have to cajole her into just listening to his list of possibilities and telling him if they were in a bad neighborhood or not.

Within a few minutes, a blue station wagon with wood paneled doors pulled up. Jack could see Alma behind the wheel and trotted out to the car. She motioned for him to get in, so he just pulled open the door and slid into the passenger seat. They sat there staring at each other for a moment. "Thanks for helpin me," he said again. It felt very strange to be seeing her here, now, when she'd just been at the ranch less than two weeks ago. "Uh…happy New Year," he said, feeling he ought to make some kind of acknowledgment of yesterday's holiday.

She pulled away from the curb, not responding to his season's greeting. She drove in silence for a few blocks, which was more than too much silence for Jack. "So, where's this place?"

"Couple miles down this road. Louanne's there today, she said ta bring you on by, said it weren't no trouble."

"Why're you bein so nice ta me?" he asked, unable to hold the question back any longer.

Alma spared him a brief sidelong glance. "Am I bein nice?"

"Well, ya found this place, now you takin me there…I call that nice."

"I call it my Christian duty ta help a sick lady in need. Plus Louanne gets a bonus for referrin residents."

"So ya still hate my guts, then? Jus checkin."

She sighed. "I cain't hate you no more, Jack. I ain't got the time nor the energy and that poison was eatin me up. Anyway…Junior'd want me ta help you if I could."

"Well…I surely appreciate it."

She looked at him again, a longer glance this time. "You look awful tired."

"Yeah. It's damned hard bein out here n handlin all this by myself. It's weighin on my mind somethin awful, plus I got other worries…uh, back home. And I miss my fella," he said, barely sparing a moment to consider the appropriateness of adding this last. It was true. Why should he censor himself to spare her? She'd had her chance to make her peace, and she seemed to have done so, as much as was possible.

She nodded, not reacting to his statement about Ennis. "How long you stayin?"

"Dunno. Be a few days at least till Ma can leave the hospital. Meantime I gotta figure out what ta do bout her, and my dad, and the ranch, and I hardly know where ta start."

"And when's Ennis comin out?"

"Uh…don't rightly know. Someone's gotta mind the ranch."

"Here we are," she said, pulling into the parking lot of a long, three-story brown brick building shaped like an L. It looked pretty new, and well-tended. A sign that said "Cedar Crest" was mounted in a bed of flowers near the parking lot.

Jack nodded. "Looks like a nice place."

"Built three years back." They got out of the car and went inside. There was a large lobby, and Jack could see a dining room off to the right. Ahead was a room full of chairs and a few TV sets, and another one that looked like some kind of activity room. A woman at the front desk came to meet them. "Hey, Louanne," Alma said to her. "This is…uh, the fella I told you about."

"Nice ta meet you," Louanne said, all smiles. Jack wondered if Alma had told her friend who he was, exactly.

"Jack Twist," he said, shaking her hand.

Louanne showed them around the facility. It seemed like a regular apartment building, except the hallways were a bit wider and there were lots of common rooms. There was a nurse's station on each floor, but it didn't have that hospital feeling like a nursing home. She showed him an empty apartment. It wasn't too big, but it had a bedroom and a nice big bathroom and a kitchen. "These all furnished?" Jack said.

"Yeah, just like you see here. But you don't hafta use it. Your ma can bring her own stuff in, much as she likes."

"Don't know how long she'll be here. You rent by the month?"

"Sure enough."

"How much?"

"Well, sounds like your ma don't need much help, so she'd be at the lowest care rate. That's $900 a month."

Jack had to work hard to keep his mouth from falling open. "$900?" he repeated.

"I know, it's a chunk a change, but it'd be double that, at least, for a regular nursin home. You gonna wanna look into some a the assistance programs we got? Your ma got Medicaid?"

"No, it's okay, I can pay it, it's jus…didn't expect that."

"Most folks don't. I think it's worth it, though. So many older folks get ta be so lonesome, and scared on their own. Here, there's lots of people ta talk to and visit, and they're never alone."

"My Ma's only 65."

"I know, that ain't so very old, but if she's got Parkinson's, might be a good option. What about your dad?"

"He's 65 too, but he's every bit as healthy as me. What I'm hopin is ta convince him ta sell that damned ranch and get them a house here in town. I jus need somewhere for her ta stay while I pound that inta his damned stubborn head."

Louanne smiled. "Sounds like yer dad n mine would get along just great. Well, we ain't s'posed ta take folks short-term, but we don't hafta mention that, seein's yer a friend a Alma's here."

Alma coughed a little at that; she and Jack exchanged a glance. To his surprise, he caught a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "I appreciate that, Louanne."

"When do ya wanna bring yer mom in?"

"Not sure. Coupla days?"

"I'll get you the paperwork, you can bring it in whenever. Need first month as a deposit, plus the first month's rent."

"Okay." Jack was already thinking ahead to which account he'd need to transfer the money from, calling Ennis to warn him to expect a $1800 withdrawal, telling Lizzie so she could balance the books…

Louanne gave him the paperwork and they bid her goodbye, braving the icy winds once again as they hurried across to Alma's car. "Nice place," was her only comment.

"Perfect," Jack said. "I jus cain't thank ya enough, Alma. I'm sure Ma'll be comfortable there for however long."

"Sounds like you got a fight ahead a you with yer pa."

"And how. Me n him don't get along under the best a circumstances."

"Why?"

"He takes some issue with my bein queer."

"Oh." She seemed to shrink in her seat a little, and said nothing more until they reached the hospital. 

Jack lingered a moment. "Thanks again."

"You done thanked me enough. Weren't nothin."

"Couldn't'a done it without yer help."

"You take care a yer ma."

"I will."

"And tell Ennis ta call me if he's comin out. Wanna make sure Francie's gonna be around."

"I'll tell him." Jack got out of the car and shut the door. He started to bend over to wave, but Alma was already driving away.

* * *

"What's the news, Rod?"

"Almost done. Only a dozen to go," Rod said, consulting his clipboard, generously smeared with dirt and mud and blood.

"Thank God." Ennis leaned over one of the laboring heifers.

"So…I hear my dad gave you a little talking-to this morning," Rod said, smiling.

Ennis fidgeted. "Somethin like that."

"Don't take it personal. He has this deep need to father everybody he meets. He hadn't known my wife ten minutes before he was lecturing her about how important it was for her to know how to change a tire, and was dragging her outside to teach her himself."

"Told me this story bout…"

"His queer friend John from the war? Yeah, he tells that story to anyone who'll stand still long enough." He put down the clipboard. "Actually, Ennis…the reason I called my dad to come help, and the reason he came all the way from Binghamton, is that gay rights are his particular mission in life, because of John. It's also one of the reasons I'm working here."

"Is that so?" Ennis said, dubious. "Ain't never heard a no straight man takin up arms ta help queers."

"Some do. He's not the only one. You'd be surprised how many men like my dad have had friends, brothers, or neighbors who were queer and changed their opinions from how they were raised. Especially army buddies from the war. Plenty of straight men met queer friends in the trenches, no matter what some folks say about it. Dad always says that meeting John changed his life."

Ennis smirked. "I guess guys named John got a talent for that," he said. Rod frowned, not getting it. "That's Jack's name, too," Ennis explained.

"Oh! Shit, I ought to have known that. Anyway, Dad was about over the moon when I first told him who I was working for. The minute I told him about your troubles he was hanging up to get in the truck, I hardly had to ask him to come."

"Well…seems like a good hearty sorta fella, your dad."

Rod laughed. "Pain in the ass is what he is, but he means well. And if you let him, he'll fucking smother you with help and advice, requested or not."

Ennis's short-wave crackled. "Jack's on the phone, Ennis," Liz said.

"On my way," he replied. "Gotta go," he said to Rod. "Back soon."

"You don't gotta be down here all the time," Rod said. "We're almost done."

"I'll be back soon anyhow." Ennis trotted up to the house and in through the back door, heading to the living room to pick up the phone. "Jack?"

"Hey, darlin."

"How come you didn't call me last night? I waited for ya."

"I'm awful sorry, cowboy. I came back ta the hotel and was gonna call, but I jus fell right ta sleep. I ain't been sleepin so good, I was plumb tuckered out."

"I figured that was it. Missed talkin to ya, though."

"Me too. Least I got a decent night's sleep out of it."

"How you doin today?"

"Pretty darned good. Ma's feelin a whole lot better; they're gonna start her on them Parkinson's pills tomorrow morning. Found a place for her, too. Real nice place, like a little apartment with lots of other older folks around, and help if she needs it."

"Good. That was fast."

"Well…had a little help. From Alma."

Ennis blinked. "Alma?"

"Yep. I'd made a list a places, I called her just hopin she could tell me which ones was nice, y'know? But she had a friend worked at this place, and she came and picked me up ta take me there and everythin."

"Huh," Ennis said, completely poleaxed by the thought of his embittered ex-wife voluntarily helping Jack with anything. "Ain't that somethin."

"She said she'd feel bad not ta help my ma, and that Junior wanted her ta be nice ta me."

Ennis chuckled. "I didn't guess that havin Junior move out here would mean that Alma'd start suckin up ta her."

"Well, you sure used ta suck up ta her when she lived in Wyoming, or did you forget?"

Ennis considered this. "Ya got a point. It's hard being thousands a miles away from yer kid n feelin guilty about it day in n day out." He felt a stab of guilt that he was explaining this to _Jack_, who surely did not need it explained. "As you know, a course," he added.

"Yeah, you better say that." Jack groaned a bit, the way he did when he was stretching something. "Any more bad luck stick ta you since we spoke?"

"Fraid so."

"How bad this time?"

"Not so bad. Kinda stupid. Lizzie n me went ta the office supply store yesterday, and while we were in there some asshole slashed all the tires. Middle a the day."

"Shit. That's fuckin…yeah, stupid. Didn't nobody see em?"

"Sheriff's askin around. Walter thinks they're pissed that they cain't get ta the ranch with all the patrols, so they just actin like dumbass teenagers now."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Nothin last night, nothin so far today."

"Walter ain't got nothin?"

"He's workin on it." Ennis stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankle, sighing. "I sent them photo albums this mornin. Overnight. You might get em tomorrow even."

"I'm gonna hafta go up ta Lightning Flat and get more stuff fer Ma before I move her ta this place. Probably leave tomorrow mornin."

"How long'll you stay there?"

"I'll jus get her stuff and come right back. Once she's moved, and with folks around her, I'll be able ta go up there and stay longer ta work on the old man. Don't wanna leave her for too long in the hospital."

"Jack, I gotta say, I'm worryin on ya."

"Yer the one with all the troubles."

"You got troubles too. Plus I got all kinds a folks here ta help me. Liz n Marianne, n all the guys…yer all alone. You ain't sleepin good…"

"I don't never sleep good when you ain't next ta me, darlin."

"I am feelin awful bad I'm stuck out here…"

"Oh, no, Del Mar. Don't you even think about leavin our ranch with all the trouble goin on. I can take care a things here, you don't gotta worry on me none."

"Yer gonna get an ulcer or somethin…"

"I ain't getting no ulcer. Quit frettin like a damn mother hen. I got a mother right here, ya know."

Ennis sighed. "All right, I'll leave ya be. I jus hate it that I ain't there ta see ta you."

"I can see ta myself, Ennis," Jack said, starting to sound impatient.

"All right, sure ya can." He cleared his throat. "I better get back ta the calvin. Almos done now, maybe a dozen ta go."

"Good. I'm gonna head back ta the hospital for a few hours. Get my ass handed ta me in gin rummy some more."

Ennis smiled. "You watch the Patriots on New Year's?"

Jack snorted. "Talk about getting yer ass handed ta you. They were playin the home team around here, too. Hospital was full a fuckin Bronco fans."

"You watch with yer ma?"

"Yeah, but she don't watch football. Tried ta explain everythin, but she mostly did her crosswords. Ended up with two orderlies, a doctor and two nurses watchin with me in her room."

"Jack fuckin Twist. Everywhere he goes, a party starts up."

"Is there a party in yer pants? Am I invited?"

Ennis laughed. "Ain't gonna be no parties in these pants for awhile, bud." He sighed. "Okay, now I really gotta go."

"Me, too. I love you, cowboy."

"Back atcha, bud." Ennis hung up, stared morosely at the phone for a moment, then got up and went back to the banal drudgery of his life, usually made bearable…even enjoyable…by the one he shared it with.

* * *

Junior was combing out her wet hair, always an adventure of tangles and snags, when she heard the phone ring downstairs. "Junior!" Annemarie called. "It's your stepdad!"

Junior frowned. "Really?"

"Yeah!"

She went down to the kitchen and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, honey."

"Jack!" she said, grinning. "Why're you calling me?"

"Why not? I miss you."

"Aww, I miss you too. And Daddy. And Liz. I'm banished to Middlebury, and…hey, how'd you get this number?"

"Lizzie gave it to me. And yer dad's just lookin out fer you."

"Treating me like a helpless ninny, that's what he's doing. I should be at the ranch."

"Him n me are both sleepin better knowing you're not."

"How's your mother?"

"Well, I don't know if your dad told you…"

"He never tells me anything."

"She does have Parkinson's. But they're puttin her on pills for it, so she'll probably be okay for some years yet."

"Aw, I'm so sorry, Jack."

"Thanks, darlin. I knew you'd want ta know…and that your dad wouldn't think ta tell you."

"I guess you know him pretty well."

"After all these years I oughta. I'm sorry, hon, I cain't talk long. Gotta get back ta the hospital. Jus wanted ta call n tell you what was up, and that I miss you."

Junior blinked back tears. "Thanks, Jack. The ranch ain't the same without you."

"G'night, Junior. You take care."

"Goodnight." She hung up. Annemarie, who'd clearly been waiting just beyond the kitchen doorway, came scurrying out.

"What'd he say?"

Junior grinned. Annemarie was just as curious about Jack and her father's relationship with him as her other friends were, she just put on a better show of hiding it. "He wanted to say hello, and tell me how his mother's doing."

"Oh." Annemarie seemed disappointed, somehow.

"Why, what were you expecting?"

"I don't know. That's so…ordinary."

"That's what they are. Ordinary. Just because they're both men doesn't mean everything is different."

* * *

Jack stretched out on top of the bedclothes, the TV on in the background while he read over the paperwork and materials Louanne had given him. _Shit,_ he thought, sitting up. _I plumb forgot ta tell Ennis about the damned $1800._ He glanced at the clock…9:00. A bit late to call him now, he'd be asleep. _I'll call him tomorrow. Won't be payin it for a few days anyhow._

He wasn't looking forward to the next day's trip up to his father's ranch. He just needed to get more clothes and personal items for his mother, that was all. He planned to inform his father, in terms that he hoped would sound final, about the place he'd found for Grace to live, and he was going to raise the possibility of selling the ranch. He hoped it wouldn't precipitate too rough of a shouting match.

_Hate ta leave Ma all alone for the whole day,_ he thought. _Guess it can't be helped. I'll go see her in the morning on my way outta town._

Maybe…it could be helped. Jack considered, reconsidered, and then finally decided he had nothing to lose. _Worse that can happen is she'll tell me ta stick it where the sun don't shine. I can survive that._

He sat at the hotel's desk again and dialed Alma's number. "Hello?"

"Alma? It's Jack."

"Oh. Hello. How's your mother?"

"Doin much better, actually, thanks. That's kinda why I'm callin. Uh…is this an okay time ta talk?"

"Sure. Monroe's doin inventory at the store, Francie's at some kinda church meetin. She's got lots a them."

"I hate ta ask, you already done so much fer me, Alma, but…I gotta ask you for another favor."

Alma sighed. "You certainly are presumin a lot on a little."

"I know, I know. And you just say no if you don't wanna, you ain't got no obligation."

"I know that," she said, sharply.

"The thing is, I gotta go up ta Lightning Flat tomorrow, ta pick up some more a her things and talk ta my father. I hate fer her ta be alone all day. I know you don't know her at all, but…well…" He took a breath. "I was really hopin maybe you could stop in and check in on her? Maybe in the afternoon? You don't hafta stay long…just say hello, see she's all right, and got enough crosswords and such…" Silence. "It'd ease my mind ta know she'd have one visitor stoppin in."

He waited for what felt like a long time. "I dunno, Jack…yer ma? She's a stranger ta me…"

"Oh, she won't be after two minutes, she's that kind. She's a real peach, Alma, so sweet…I know she's tired a bein in that hospital, and it's kinda big n scary ta her…"

"All right, you don't gotta lay on the guilt like that," Alma said, a bit snappishly. "I'll go and see her. For her sake, not for yours."

"That's all I ask. And she can tell you all kinda embarrassin stories about me that you can use ta blackmail me, how's that?"

Alma chuckled a bit, then swallowed it abruptly. "Well, that I can live with."

"I'm very much obliged, really."

"Well…yer lookin after my daughter and payin her way through school. Guess I can spare an hour ta sit with yer ma. Safe trip," she said, and hung up.

Jack was still reeling a bit from the success of his not-terribly-optimistic request when there was a knock on his hotel room door. He frowned. _I didn't order room service, did I?_

He opened the door. A young woman was standing there, her hair in a ponytail so tight it was pulling the skin back from her forehead. She was wearing owlish glasses with dark rims, and she looked familiar. "Uh…can I help you?" he asked, trying to place her.

"Are you Jack Twist?"

"Yes, I surely am. Who might you be, miss?"

She sighed. "I mighta known you wouldn't recognize me. I'm Francine Del Mar, Mr. Twist. Can I come in?"


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's Note: This chapter will forever be known at the Chapter Of Nothing but Intense Long Conversations That Nearly Killed the Author. Holy crap. And I'm sorry, but it's another chapter without any direct J/E interaction, but there's definitely lots of them thinking of each other, and others discussing them!_

My thanks to **_kiwiria_**_ for the Biblical help, me being an atheist and not down with most of that stuff._

I also admit to having some fears about going over the top with the religious-nut variety of conversation that is present in this chapter. I know in my head that there are people who talk like this, because I've heard them, but I guess the writer in me finds so much of the rhetoric cheesy and overblown that it's hard to write it, even if I know that the person speaking really believes it. I just find it hard to accept that anyone really talks like that, although I know that sadly, they do.

* * *

Jack was speechless. He could hear Ennis in his head: _Imagine that, the flappin lips a Jack Twist finally still n silent. I'm gonna call the fuckin paper._ All he could do was nod, and stand aside to let Francine enter, and shove down the panic that was rising in his throat. He shut the door behind her and stood there, trying to look at ease, while she crossed the room and sat down in the desk chair as if she belonged there, crossing her legs demurely at the knee and watching him with a flat, analytical gaze. She'd introduced herself as if they were strangers, which he supposed they had become given her recent ideological shift.

He made himself move and sit on the edge of the bed facing her. She was just _looking_ at him, like she was in biology class dissecting an earthworm and couldn't quite make out what she was seeing. Jack couldn't take his eyes off her, struggling to see in the ramrod-stiff young woman before him some traces of the girl he'd last seen only a year before, when she'd visited the ranch the previous Christmas. It was amazing how much a young girl could change in such a short time. She'd sprouted a few inches and lost about twenty pounds. Her hair was different, her clothes were different, and the glasses were new. _Cain't believe I didn't even recognize her. Still hardly do._ "Well, Francie," he finally said. "Your mother don't know you're here, does she?"

She shook her head. "Course not."

"How'd you know where ta find me?"

"I listened in when you called her yesterday. Said you was at the Holiday Inn."

He nodded, dismissing this little bit of espionage. "So, uh…what're you doin here, if you don't mind my askin?"

She opened her mouth, then reconsidered and shut it again. She was holding her handbag across her lap, her fingers laced over it. She sighed. "Guess I jus wanted ta have a look at you with the scales off my eyes."

"You've seen me before."

"Not for awhile. I learned a few things since then."

He tried on one of his most charming smiles, but it felt stiff and phony on his face. He spread his arms and shrugged. "Well, now you seen me. Were you thinkin I'd be some kinda monster now? As you can see, I ain't."

Francine took a deep breath and let it out. "Reverend says that when you meet the Devil, he will smile n shake your hand…and he will be pleasin to the eye and the senses."

"So I'm the Devil now, is that it?"

"I dunno, you tell me," she said, her eyes flashing with emotion for the first time.

"I'm just a man tryin ta make his way in the world, darlin," he said.

"Don't call me that!" she snapped.

"I'm sorry, you're right," he said gently, feeling his way. "If you don't wanna talk ta me, that's okay. But I surely wish that you'd talk ta yer daddy. Y'know it breaks his heart that you won't speak ta him, and whatever makes him sad, well, I wanna fix it for him."

"You wanna _fix_ it?" she repeated. "When it's yer doin I ain't got no daddy?"

Jack's jaw clenched, but he didn't react to her accusation, moving past it to the more important part of her statement. "You _do_ have a daddy, Francine, and he loves you very much and misses you. I know you've got some different ideas since we saw each other last, but there ain't no reason ta cut him off like yer doin. It ain't gonna change nothin, and it's jus hurtin him, and you too."

Francine was shaking her head. "Don't talk ta me like ya know me, Mr. Twist."

"You used ta call me Jack."

"You don't know me. Don't tell me what I oughta do or how I oughta feel!"

"You wanna tell me how ya feel, then?"

She shut her eyes and laced her fingers tight together. "My father's livin in sin and perversion and it's cause a you. My parents broke the vows they took before God cause a you."

Jack sighed. "You can blame me fer that if you want, that's okay. Jus don't take it out on yer daddy. Won't ya jus talk ta him?"

"I ain't got nothin ta say ta him."

"Now, Junior told me that you wanted ta save him."

She looked to the side and blinked, and Jack thought he saw the shine of tears at her eyelids, but when she turned back it was gone. "I hadta see what I'd be savin him from…if he ain't already beyond savin, that is."

"My pastor says ain't no one's beyond savin."

That seemed to give her pause. "You got a pastor?"

"Sure. Yer dad n me go ta church every Sunday. We just never usedta go when you girls was visitin, cause it was a different church than you was used to."

"But…they let you through the _door?_ What kinda church is it?"

"We're Methodists."

"Guess they don't care about sin, then."

"They do. They just say that we all sin, and it's part a bein human, and we're forgiven."

"Ta be forgiven ya gotta _repent!_ Do you repent, Jack? Are ya sorry? Do ya beg forgiveness for givin in ta them unnatural urges ya feel? Do ya pray ta God ta make you right again? Do ya do everythin ya can ta drive that sin outta yourself?" she said. Jack could see a zealot's light coming into her eyes as she lit into him. It didn't look like it belonged there, but then again, to his mind a light like that didn't belong anywhere.

"Francie…God made me the way I am," Jack said, speaking as calmly as he could. He would not get into a shouting match with Ennis's daughter, he simply would not. "I believe that with all my heart. And I believe that God made yer daddy and me jus right fer each other, and that he brought us together and wants us ta be happy."

She looked incredulous that he'd even suggest such a thing. She shut her eyes again and bowed her head. "'Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.' Leviticus 18:22."

Jack nodded. "'Honor thy father and thy mother.'"

She met his eyes. "'And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee.' Matt 5:29."

"'Judge not, that ye be not judged.'"

Francine was almost shaking. Jack regretted having engaged her at all. She was clinging to those verses to guide her, and he was turning them against her. Would it have killed him to just sit there and take whatever Biblical verse she wanted to throw at him? It seemed to him that there was one for any occasion. "How dare you," she hissed. "How dare you use the words of our Lord to justify yourself?"

"I don't claim ta justify, Francie."

"You _are_ evil, jus like the Reverend says," she said, quietly. "Ya turned my daddy against God n took him away, ya made my mamma break her holy vows, y'even got ta my sister, but y'ain't gettin ta me, ya hear?" An edge of panic crept into her voice, as if this was her greatest fear…that she'd succumb to whatever wiles he supposedly possessed that had taken her father and sister away; that she'd be tempted into tolerance of his ungodly sin in spite of herself.

All at once she seemed so young, so heartbreakingly young and searching for something, anything that would explain the splintering of her family, wanting someone to blame, some reason why, and somebody she could hate for it. She'd found it between the covers of the Bible, and while Jack was pretty sure that wasn't the intention of its author, it'd do for her for now. If she needed a scapegoat until she grew up enough to see the world in shades of gray, then he'd play the part if he had to. "You go ahead n hate me if makes you feel better, honey," Jack said. "But you gotta know that I never wanted ta hurt you, or your ma, or anybody. I ain't got all the answers. I'm jus tryin ta do the best I can with the hand I got dealt. Yer dad n me did wrong when we tried ta be who we weren't, and it weren't fair ta any a you…but ya know, it weren't all bad, cause it means he got ta have you n Junior, and I got ta have my boy…" He paused, swallowing past that thought. "I been wanting ta say these things ta you for a real long time, Francie. I've had my chance ta say em ta Junior, and yer ma, and now I got ya here and even if ya cain't hear me, I gotta say em, cause happy as I am with yer dad, it's a powerful burden ta know that my bein happy comes at yer expense."

Francie was just staring down at her interlaced fingers, her knuckles white. To Jack, she looked like someone determined not to listen. She didn't have to listen, she just had to hear.

"I know things seem real cut n dried now. Always that way when you're young, and you got someone tellin you how ta think, and givin you what seems like a set a rules that if you jus follow em, then you'll be okay and nothin bad can happen. You probly don't think I understand, but I'm tellin you that I do." He sighed. "I don't got no magic words that'll make ya see how it is, any more'n you got some that'll make me understand no Reverend that's teachin you ta hate." Her head came up at that, a glint of mistrust in her eyes. "That ain't the point. My pastor says that love is the most important thing in the world, and next ta that, nothin else means much. Well, you gotta know that yer dad loves you, even if you won't let him tell ya so."

Francie sighed, shuddering a little, and one hand snuck up to her face to swipe at her eyes. "Mus love you more," she whispered. "Left me ta be with you."

Jack wished there was good response to that. He wished he could dump years' worth of life experience and soul-searching right into Francie's brain so she could somehow understand that there had been no good choice, just the one that'd let them sleep at night, the one that had let them live. "He don't love me more, honey. Jus different."

"I don't understand how you can live knowin the Lord will turn His back on you," she said, her voice small and confused.

"I don't know that he will. The Lord I know don't turn his back on nobody. Yer dad n me got peace now for the first time in our lives, and if the Lord's gonna hate us for that, well…I guess we'll have ta risk it." Francine said nothing. She was still staring at her hands. Jack sighed. "Why'd you come here, Francie? You won't talk ta Ennis on the phone, but you'll come here ta me?"

She raised her head and met his eyes. "Reverend says ya gotta look yer demons in the face, because the devil you know ain't as scary."

"I hope he's right. I don't wanna be no demon ta you, Francie."

Her chest hitched. "Then _why?_ Why'd you come?" Her voice was quavery, but she wasn't giving in. "Why'd you hafta take _everything?_" she cried.

Jack stared at the floor, at a loss. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Is that it? You're _sorry?_"

"I don't know what you want ta hear," Jack said. "You ain't the only one who's suffered, ya know. And you're a damned sight better off than lotsa folks. You still have a mother and father who both love you and look after you, if you'd let them, and a sister who's gone through the same things you have but has somehow come out okay. Do you know that my son died last summer?" She shook her head 'no.' "And do you know that not a day goes by that I don't wonder if I'd a been able ta save him if I'd been there with him, instead a in Vermont? That sometimes I wish I'd stayed in Texas, even though I was miserable, jus so I'd still have him and wouldn't hafta feel this guilty all the damned time?"

"Why didn't you?" she asked. Jack looked up. It was the first question she'd asked him that sounded like she actually wanted to know the answer. "Stay in Texas, I mean."

"You know why, don'tcha?"

"I wanna hear you say it."

He sighed. "Because I hadta try n make it work with yer dad. I know you don't understand, and you think it's unnatural n perverted, and believe me you ain't the only one. But if I don't know nothin else in the world, I know that I love yer dad with all I am as a man and some that I only hope ta be, and when I wasn't with him, part a me died every day." He looked up into her uncomprehending eyes and smiled, feeling weary and wrung-out. "Someday you'll feel that way about somebody, and know that they feel the same fer you. Then, maybe, you'll know why yer dad n me hadta be together, and try ta make it work out best we could fer everybody, includin you."

Francine didn't look convinced. At all. _My powers a persuasion must be slippin,_ Jack thought. "You don't even see what you done," she said. "Or what he done. Or what you are, the both a you."

"I know what you think we are. But I cain't help that. I'm jus…" He hesitated.

"Francie, I'm _beggin_ ya ta talk ta yer daddy. Even if it's just ta say hello and how's the weather."

She stood up, still holding that purse in front of her like a talisman. "I'll think about it," she said, that flat gaze upon him again.

He rose. "Thank you." She went past him to the door. "Francie…I jus don't know what ya wanted when ya come here. What were you hopin I'd say, or do?"

She looked at him with a shuttered gaze. "I don't know."

"You've changed so much since I saw you last Christmas, honey," he said, shaking his head. "What happened ta that young girl who liked ta ride our horses, and laughed, and hugged people?"

She pursed her lips. "She ain't jus tryin ta please folks no more. She's found her true way, and she's grown up."

"Grown up means knowin there ain't just one true way, darlin."

She lifted her chin a little, swept him up and down with her eyes, then walked out. Jack shut the door behind her and leaned on the handle, head down and eyes closed. _What's been done ta that child in the name a God?_ he wondered. _And whose ass can I whup for it?_

He went to the bed and laid down, more wearied by the conversation than he would have believed possible. _I oughta call Ennis. Leastways I can tell him what she said._ It was late, though, and he hated to disturb him. If Ennis was sleeping as badly as Jack himself was, he'd need every minute he could get.

Jack shut his eyes and lay back, picturing Ennis in bed. Wearing his blue-and-white-striped flannel pants…no, naked. Naked with the sheets barely covering him. One arm across his stomach, the other tucked up behind his head so it stretched out the muscles in his chest. One knee cocked, exposing the pale inside of his thigh, where the skin was so soft it barely felt like it could be real.

Jack unzipped his pants and reached inside, drawing his cock out. He sighed and began to stroke it, concentrating on that picture of Ennis in his mind's eye. Now that sheet barely covering him was gone, exposing every inch of the body that Jack knew so well. The knobs of bone at the hip, knee and shoulder, the ridges of rib, the flat nipples that stood up like jean rivets under Jack's ministrations. That trail of dark hair guiding his eyes south to the darker mass of his cock and balls, resting now against the white of his groin. Shins rubbed hairless from a lifetime of wearing jeans, feet callused and tough from years inside boots.

He could describe every last detail, but words failed him when it came to how Ennis felt against him. That, he could only recall in senses. With his eyes shut, his hand on himself could become Ennis's hand, Ennis's mouth. His solitude could turn into intimacy, Ennis wrapped around him, his heartbeat against Jack's.

Longing intruded on Jack's fantasy, sidelining him into sadness when he was shooting for arousal. Frustrated, Jack stroked himself harder, pushing his memory towards the most erotic times he'd shared with Ennis. But all he could see was Ennis's face, and all he could hear was his voice, and it only reminded him of how far away he was.

"Shit," he said, voice choked. He opened his eyes and dashed the tears from them, his cock flaccid and pre-empted by the ache in his chest. He turned over on his side and curled up, pulling the bedspread over his still-clothed body, and grimly shut his eyes. _Why you holdin back?_ he asked himself. _Nobody here but us chickens and us lonely ranchers._

Jack sighed, and let the tears come.

* * *

Alma walked down the hospital corridor, her eyes ticking off the room numbers as she passed, each door drawing her closer. Her steps were accompanied by the litany in her head…_why're you doin this, you don't owe him, you don't know her, it's gonna be so awkward, what're you gonna find ta talk about, how you gonna explain…why're you doin this, you don't owe him…_and over and over again.

She reached Mrs. Twist's room and stopped outside the door. _She's just a sick lady needs some company. Buck up and be nice._

Alma put on a smile and entered, knocking gently. Mrs. Twist…she realized with a start that she didn't even know the woman's given name…turned to look. She was sitting up in her bed, wearing a light blue housecoat and doing a crossword. Alma wondered if Jack had told her to expect a visitor. Probably not. "Mrs. Twist?" she said, approaching.

The woman smiled, a sweet smile but tentative, unsure of who it was smiling for. "Yes?"

"I'm uh…a friend a…" Alma stopped and cleared her throat. "Jack asked me ta stop by n see you while he was outta town. Did he tell you I'd be comin?"

The smile widened. "Oh, he surely did not! That boy, I swear. Sometimes he just goes on his merry way and leaves his sense behind him." Alma could hear that same affectionate exasperation in Mrs. Twist's voice that found its way into hers when talking about her own children. It brought home the strange knowledge that whoever Jack was to her…a devil, a villain, a rival, a successor…he was this woman's little boy, who'd run to her when he skinned his knee and cried for her when it was too dark. "Sit down, won'tcha?" Alma sat in the chair next to the bed. "What's your name, honey?"

"It's Alma, ma'am." Alma looked for signs of Mrs. Twist's condition. Her hands were shaking a little and her voice sounded a little quivery, but if she weren't looking she might not've noticed.

"Oh, call me Grace. Ain't you kind ta come n see me?"

"Well…Jack didn't like ta think you'd be alone all day…"

Grace smiled again. "Ain't he thoughtful," she said, almost to herself. "And…yer a friend a Jack's? Don't think he's mentioned you." Grace's brow furrowed in thought. "How's he know anyone in Gillette?"

Alma took a breath. She'd decided in the car on the way over that if Mrs. Twist asked who she was, she'd tell her the truth. "Actually, ma'am…"

"Grace."

"Grace, a course. Actually, I'm…Ennis's ex-wife."

A few expressions flew across Grace's face. Surprise, comprehension, sympathy…trepidation. "Oh, I see," she said, subdued. "Then you're Junior's mamma?"

"Oh yes, I sure am."

"Well, Jack talks a lot about Junior. He sure is fond a her."

Alma nodded. "She's mighty fond a him."

Grace smiled, then reached out and laid her hand on Alma's arm. "Then…you n my Jack ain't exactly the best a friends, are you?" she said, gently. Alma glanced up at her, not wanting to say anything against this woman's son under these circumstances. "It's okay, you don't hafta lie ta spare me."

"I guess we ain't," Alma said. "Although we got a kinda truce goin on, you might say."

"Mighty kind a you ta help him out." Alma saw nothing but understanding in Grace's eyes and felt herself relaxing.

"He told me you been poorly, and how you needed a place ta stay…well, considerin that ain't none a this yer fault, I thought it'd be the decent thing ta do." Alma's fears about awkwardness seemed a little silly now. Jack's mother wasn't what she'd expected, although what she _had_ expected, she didn't know. She seemed so calm and soothing, like a mother ought to be. Alma felt the pull of her own mother's spirit; she'd died ten years before, and Alma still missed the comfort of her voice, the reassurance of her touch and her smile.

Grace was nodding; she drew back a little and picked up her knitting. Alma, who'd brought her own, took the cue and drew her needles and yarn out of her bag. Grace was using large needles and making a simple scarf; probably a consequence of her condition. "You musta had some hard times, honey," Grace said. Alma didn't quite know how to respond to that, so she focused on her knitting. "You know," Grace began, "when Jack was a boy, he found a stray dog roamin around our yard. Runty little thing, not fit for ranch work, figured it was a pet that run away. Didn't have no collar or nothin. Well, he fell hard fer that dog, and it was mutual. Couldn't hardly separate em. Coupla weeks went by, and by chance Jack's dad bought a horse from the man whose boy had lost the dog. When he came by n saw it, he was all anxious ta take the dog back ta his boy. Jack was heartbroken. Cried about how the dog was his now, and he oughta stay. I tried ta tell him ta think about that other boy, who'd been missin his dog all that time. He'd be happy ta keep the dog, but it'd make the other boy sad." Alma met Grace's eyes. "I know he don't always think about how what he wants is gonna hurt somebody else."

Alma sat still, her needles quiet in her hand. "What happened to the dog?"

"The boy's father just took it back. Jack's dad wouldn't hear a him keepin it when it was rightful property a someone else."

Alma thought for a moment. "I wonder what the dog woulda wanted if they'd asked him."

Grace smiled. "I don't know, honey. Why?"

"If the dog was happier with Jack, it woulda been better in the long run for the other boy ta let it go." She sniffed and picked up her knitting again. "A course, I never got ta choose ta let go. Had no choice. He was gone before I ever really had him."

"Musta been hard," Grace murmured. "That is an awful thing. Hard enough ta split with a man ya got strong feelins on, but ta lose him like you done…" She clucked and shook her head. "It's a real shame it hadta be like that."

Alma turned in her chair. "Is it hard fer you? I'm sorry ta be so forward, but I gotta ask."

"Hard? Ya mean…knowin what Jack is?"

"Yeah. Ennis's folks, they died when he was a kid, but his daddy woulda beat him senseless, no mistake."

Grace was silent for a moment, her knitting needles flashing. "You got other kids, Alma?"

"Junior's got a sister, Francie, and I got two boys with my second husband."

"You want em ta be happy, don'tcha?"

"Sure. But…I guess I want em ta be happy while livin right."

"And you don't think Jack's livin right?"

Alma flushed. "I don't mean ta…ain't my place ta judge…"

Grace flapped a hand. "Pshaw, we all judge. And if someone's got a reason ta judge harsh, I'd say it's you. I jus seen what tryin ta live so right can do to a person. I can't bring myself ta care so much. I jus know that my boy is happy n healthy n doin real well for himself, especially considerin where he comes from. I guess I'm so grateful fer that that I ain't gonna be too picky about the rest."

"Have you met Ennis?"

"No, sorry ta say I haven't. Came close once," Grace said, a touch of grimness in her voice, "but only saw him from a distance. Jack says he might be comin out soon, I'm hopin ta meet him then." Grace looked at her. "You jus had a holiday visit with them, ain't you?"

Alma nodded. "Before that, I'd only met Jack once, way back in '67. Then I go off ta spend a whole week with him after all this time."

"That musta been real hard fer you."

"It wasn't no picnic, but…I guess I gotta admit it weren't as bad as I thought it was gonna be. They took pains ta make me comfortable, and I got ta see my daughter." By now both women were comfortably knitting along, eyes flicking back and forth and up to the muted TV as they spoke. "Was a bit strange ta see their regular lives, their house n their ranch n their friends. It was all so…" She trailed off.

"So what?" Grace prompted.

"So ordinary. Boring, even. Didn't really expect that. Thought it'd be…" She sighed. "I dunno what I thought."

"You didn't think they'd be regular folks."

"No!" Alma exclaimed, turning to meet Grace's eyes. Grace looked up at her, startled by the outburst. They sat still for a moment, then Alma couldn't help but laugh. Grace joined her, chuckling and coughing a little. "I mean…sounds so silly, don't it?"

"No, honey. It's strange ta us. I admit it's a bit strange ta me, too."

"It is?" Alma hadn't expected this admission.

"A bit. I'm happy fer my son, but…well, I still don't really understand his life." She looked up at the ceiling, considering, then put down her knitting. "What's their house like?" she asked, turning towards Alma a little.

"Oh, it's real nice. Kinda log-cabin, but without the logs. They got a fireplace and a real big back patio overlooks the creek." Alma could see Grace's eagerness for details and tried to dredge up a few more. "Um…they got a bungalow, where Junior lives, where I stayed when I was visitin. And a stable, and such."

"But…" Grace frowned. "Who does the woman's work? Ya know, the cleanin' and the cookin and such."

"They got a housekeeper does it, mostly."

"And…" Grace cleared her throat and shifted her hips a little. "They got…do they…" She trailed off. Alma thought she knew what Grace was curious about.

"They got a nice bedroom with a bath attached," she said, quietly. "Pretty pine bed, too."

"And they…share?"

Alma nodded, swallowing hard, uncomfortable with the topic. _That musta been hard ta ask,_ she thought. Grace's questions felt less like nosiness and more like a need for confirmation of what she had never seen, but only inferred. She just wanted to know her son's life. Alma could understand. That had been her biggest motivation for her visit…she'd wanted to know her daughter's life. Where she was, what it looked like, what kind of quilt was on her bed. Things that didn't matter, but did. Things that formed an image for Alma to hold in the absence.

Grace seemed finished, for the time being. "Well. I hope ta see that ranch someday for myself. Maybe I could ask Jack ta take some pictures of it for me."

"I'm sure he'd do that."

She picked up her knitting and resumed. "So, Alma. Tell me about these boys a yers."

* * *

Jack got back to Gillette around five, impressed with the time he'd made. For all the rehearsing he'd done in the car on the way up, when he'd arrived, his father had not been home. He knew that he ought to take his time gathering his mother's things, and wait for John to return to the house so they could talk.

And what had he done? Gone through the house like a whirlwind, glancing out the window every five seconds, packed in a flash and gotten back on the road in record time. _You chickenshit, Twist,_ he chided himself. _Gonna hafta face the old man sooner or later with all this._

As he approached his mother's hospital room he could hear voices inside. He slowed and paused outside the door, listening to his mother…and Alma.

"I jus don't know what ta do with him," Alma was saying. "He will not stop bitin the other kids! The teacher's had me in ta talk about it, sayin that if he don't stop they mighta have ta separate him or somethin."

"How old is he again?" his mother asked.

"He's just six."

"Oh, honey. They don't know nothin but themselves at that age. Bite him back."

Jack heard Alma's surprised laughter. "Bite him back? I don't know if I could bite my son…"

"Surely could. Bite him back. Let him see how it feels. Tell him he's gonna get a bite fer a bite and watch how quick he stops."

Jack peeked around the corner. His mother was sitting up, knitting forgotten on her lap. Alma was in the chair by the bed, pulled up close, her elbows on the mattress. He knocked, poking his head in, and they both looked around. The change was instantaneous; his mother turned towards him, beaming, while Alma sat back, her shoulders squaring and her arms going across her chest. "Jack, you're back early!" Grace said.

"Made good time," he said, coming to the bedside to kiss her cheek. "You sure seem better, Ma."

"Feelin much better. They started me on that medication this morning. Look," she said, holding out her hands. The tremors were still there, but lessened. Her voice sounded a bit less wobbly, as well. "They said it'd get even better over the next coupla days."

Jack grinned, relief easing the tension that seemed to have set up permanent residence in his neck and back. "That's mighty fine, Ma."

"And I've been havin such a nice chat with yer friend here," she said.

Jack looked at Alma, who glanced up at him, then away. "Well, it was mighty nice a her ta come by," he said.

"I best be goin," Alma said, standing and gathering her bag and coat. "It was sure nice chattin with you, Grace."

"Oh, you too, honey. You come back n see me anytime." She reached out and clasped Alma's hand.

"Alma, can I, uh…have a word with you outside?" Jack said.

She arched one eyebrow. "Sure enough," she said evenly.

"Ma, I'll be right back," Jack said, then followed Alma out into the corridor, closing the door behind him.

"What is it?" Alma said, the tension back in her face.

"Thought you oughta know that Francine come ta see me last night at my hotel."

"Francine…what?" She shook her head. "No, she was at her church meetin."

"Alma, I'm tellin you, she showed up at my hotel room door and asked ta come in and talk ta me."

Alma's eyes widened, and Jack could tell that this was all news to her. "She did what? Well…what'd she want?"

"I dunno. All she did was come in and throw some fire n brimstone my direction, and ask me why I hadta go n ruin her family n tempt her daddy into a life a sin n perversion."

"Questions we'd all like answered, I'm sure," Alma said acidly. Jack just looked at her. She sighed. "I'm sorry, it's jus…this is a surprise."

"No more'n it was fer me."

"Jack…you weren't harsh on her, were you?" she said, her eyes boring into his with the promise of retribution if this were the case.

"A course not!" he exclaimed. "She's got a right ta be mad at me, I guess. Mostly I jus asked her ta please talk ta Ennis on the phone, cause I know how it pains him that she won't. I kept my cool head, Alma."

She nodded, appearing to accept this. "I'll talk ta her. I wish you'da just sat her down, not said nothin n called me ta come get her, though. Ain't fittin fer you ta have a private chat with my daughter, y'know."

"Yeah," Jack said, blinking. _Why the hell didn't I do exactly that?_ "I hope you don't think I'd…"

She flapped a hand. "No. Jus…ain't fittin." Alma sighed, shrugging into her coat. "Anyway, I best get on home."

"I sure do appreciate you comin ta sit with my ma," Jack said, hoping she could hear how much he meant it. "Never thought you'd stick around this long."

Alma smiled, her eyes softening a little. "She's a sweet lady, yer ma. I liked talkin ta her. In fact…" She eyed her shoes and fidgeted. "Was thinkin if it's all right with you, I might, uh…come by again n visit her."

Jack smiled, an absurd lump rising in his throat. "That'd be just swell, Alma. She don't know nobody in town, and I'm gonna be havin things ta do."

She nodded. "Okay, then. I'll, uh…be seein you." She turned and walked off down the corridor. Jack watched her go, wondering when this nonstop assault of unexpected events would let him relax for even five minutes. _Guess it's more'n politics what make strange bedfellows,_ he mused.

* * *

Ennis came into the kitchen for another beer, and to get a moment's reprieve from the noisy carousing going on in the living room. He'd thought about calling off the traditional "the calving's over" party for the hands and whatever friends were brave enough to come by, but had decided that he wasn't going to change anything because of some assholes lurking around. There were still two men on patrol outside, and with another fifteen or so inside, anyone looking to make trouble would be well advised to look elsewhere.

Marianne was whipping up some more nacho dip, having insisted on sticking around to help with the party, and Liz was showing Lars some of the pictures in the breakfast nook. "That's Jack there," she said, as he looked over her shoulder.

"The man himself!" Lars exclaimed. "He is a handsome fella, ain't he? Ennis! How'd a sourpuss like you ever land such a handsome fella?"

Ennis popped open his beer and took a swig. "Oh, ya think he is? Never noticed."

"The hell you didn't, you just don't wanna say so!"

He was rescued from having to answer by the phone ringing. Marianne started for it, but he stopped her. "I'll get it in the bedroom. It's probly Jack, said he'd call tonight." He went down the hall to their bedroom, closing the door behind the sound of a room full of half-drunk men watching football in the living room. "Hello?" he said, getting ready to smile and respond to whatever silly, smart-alecky, or sexy thing Jack would whip on him first.

No answer. "Hello?" Ennis repeated.

"Daddy?"

Ennis sat down on the edge of the bed, the blush of anticipation he'd had on to talk to Jack vanishing like fog before a strong morning breeze. "Francie?"

"It's me, Daddy."

The breath rushed out of Ennis's chest in a rush. "Aw, darlin, it sure is great ta hear from you. How you doin? Everythin okay? How's school? How're all yer friends? Ya think ya might come visit sometime again?" He knew he was practically drowning her with words, an unusual condition for him, but he had so much to say and he wasn't sure when he'd have this chance again.

Francie waited a moment, probably to check that he was done, before answering. "I'm all right. I've been doin a lot a thinkin, and I've met some new folks."

"I know, darlin. And that's somethin we oughta talk about. But now, I'd just like ta hear all about yer life," Ennis said, treading carefully around the subject of her new religion.

"I miss you," Francine said, tears lacing the edges of her voice.

Ennis gripped the handset harder. "I sure miss you too, honey. Cain't tell ya how glad I am yer callin ta talk."

"I know I ain't wanted ta talk for awhile, Daddy. But I don't want ta lose you for good."

"You ain't never gonna lose me, no matter what. I will always be yer Daddy."

"Glad ta hear that," she said, sounding calmer. "And I always wanna be yer daughter, too."

"A course, darlin."

"You'll come home, then?"

Ennis froze. "What you talkin about, Francie?" he said, quietly.

"Daddy…I want ta be in your life, and I want you ta be in mine, but that cain't happen unless you can accept Jesus Christ and turn your back on that what's led you astray."

Ennis just sat and stared. He had no idea what to say. "Now, darlin, I want ta be able ta talk ta you, but if this is what you wanna talk about…"

"This is all that matters, Daddy. How can you say you love me and wanna be my daddy when you're so far away, and livin the way you live, with…that man?"

"We've talked about Jack, and I thought you understood…"

"He is _evil_, Daddy. I've looked in his eyes, and I've seen how he's turned you against what's right. You gotta cut him loose, then you can be saved."

Ennis frowned. "What you mean, you've looked in his eyes? When? Where?"

"Here. I saw him last night, at his hotel."

"What? You went ta his hotel? Why?"

"I hadta see the truth a him, that he hides behind that big smile! Reverend says that the devil is a seducer, he's a two-faced tempter! I went ta try and talk him inta lettin you go, so's you could come back ta yer home and ta God's way, and you know what he said ta me, Daddy? He cursed n swore at me and called me the vilest names, I cain't even stand ta repeat em!" Ennis slid off the bed to sit on the floor, huddled against the nighttable with the phone handset clutched to his head. "He said that you'd never turn yer back on him, that you belonged ta him now! I told him that he was _wrong,_ that my Daddy was a good man and I could bring him back!"

"Oh, Francine," Ennis breathed. "What's become a you?"

"I ain't that little girl who believed everything you said and took whatever came no more!" she exclaimed, an edge of hysteria coming to her voice. "I don't want ta do this, Daddy, but if you cain't renounce your ways and come back ta the Lord, then…" She hesitated. "Then I ain't yer daughter no more, and you ain't my Daddy."

"Please, darlin, don't do this ta me," Ennis said, his eyes clamped shut. "You cain't make me choose."

"_He_ said you'd choose him, but I still got faith in you, Daddy. You can choose me, cain't you?"

Ennis knocked his head against the nighttable. "I cain't…it ain't that simple…it don't gotta be that way, jus one or the other."

"I'm tellin you that it does," she said. She sounded so certain. "Daddy…he hit me."

Ennis straightened up, dull horror flooding him. "What?"

"He hit me. When I told him that I'd get you back from him, he grabbed me and said I never would, that you were his, and he hit me across the face."

"Francine Del Mar, why you lyin ta me?"

"I ain't lyin!"

"You are, you are lyin ta me and givin me ultimatums. Is that what it's come to? Is that how it is now for you? That what they teachin you in that…that _church?_ Lies n tricks?"

"I ain't lyin ta you!" she repeated, crying now.

"You _ARE!_" Ennis thundered, his grief and sickness churning to anger. "There is no way in hell that Jack would ever raise his voice, let alone his hand, to no daughter a mine, and if you think he ever would then you don't know him at all, or me if you think I'd take up with no man who'd do such a thing. Well, I _do_ know him, but I'm startin ta think I don't know _you!_"

"Daddy, please…don't choose him instead a me…"

"Yer the one forcin my hand, daughter. I wouldn'ta never given up either a you. It's you doin this, not me. You remember that, Francine. But you remember too that no matter what you said, or done, or what I said, I will always love you n be here for you, whenever yer grown up enough ta understand that lovin someone means you don't ask em ta change to suit you."

Before he could lose his nerve, Ennis hung up. He curled around his knees on the bedroom floor, covering his head with his arms, a few harsh sobs escaping him. Coldness and tremors seeped into his body and he barely made it to the bathroom before everything was coming up from his stomach.

He crouched over the toilet, shaking all over, wishing that he could feel Jack's hand on his back, soothing him, pressing a cool cloth to his neck.

_What'd you really say ta her, Jack? Why didn't you call n tell me she'd been ta see you? What the hell's goin on out there?_


	22. Chapter 22

Ennis made it back into the bedroom on trembling legs, still feeling queasy and upset. His hand shook a little as he reached for the phone and the book that had Jack's hotel number written on the flyleaf.

He glanced at the clock. _Only seven o'clock out there, he's probly not in his room,_ he thought. He couldn't think of anything else to do but try.

He dialed the number and waited through one ring, two, three…he was about to hang up when Jack answered. "Hello?" He sounded a little winded, like he'd run for it.

"Jack," Ennis said.

"Oh, Ennis," Jack said. "Good thing ya caught me. I was just leavin ta go back ta the hospital when I heard the phone ring from out in the hall."

"I know it's earlier than we normally talk…"

"Yeah, I was gonna call ya when I got home tonight. I got some stuff ta tell ya, for sure."

Ennis settled back against the headboard, the sound of Jack's voice calming him considerably. "What stuff?"

"Ennis…Francine showed up at my hotel room door last night, wantin ta talk ta me."

"What'd she want?" Ennis asked, trying to conceal his relief that Jack was telling him about her visit of his own accord.

"I can hardly say. She spouted some awfulness, and got a bit up in my face, and I don't quite know what ta make of it, truth be told."

"And what'd you say?"

"Mostly I just told her she oughta talk ta you."

Ennis sighed. "Well, seems she took at least that advice ta heart. She just called here."

"She did?"

"Yeah." He bit his lip, the raw emotion of their conversation revisiting itself upon his fragile calm. "Got into it a bit."

"What's that mean?"

"She, uh…said she wasn't gonna be my daughter no more as long as I'm with you."

He heard Jack sigh, then a light _thwump_ as he sat down. "Shit." It was just one word, but Ennis had been listening to Jack curse for twenty years, and in that single syllable he could hear Jack's frustration, his sadness, his sympathy, his anxiety and his disappointment.

"She also said that you cursed at her, called her names and that ya hit her."

He heard Jack suck in an alarmed breath. "She said fuckin _what?_ You…she…ya don't believe her, do ya?"

"A course not. You'd never do that ta no daughter a mine."

"Well, I'm relieved ta hear ya say so."

"I don't know what ta do, Jack," Ennis said, his voice taking on a tremble. _You ain't gonna cry on the phone, asshole,_ he told himself sternly._ You ain't._ "She sounded outta her mind. Said I hadta choose between you n her."

"Goddamn, Ennis," Jack said, sounding a little choked up himself. "I never wanted any a that ta happen ta you."

"I know. Ain't yer fault. It's them sons a bitches been fillin her head with poison, that's whose fault it is. But, Jack…was you alone with her when ya talked?"

"Yeah."

"What if she tells Alma them lies she told me?"

"Alma n me already talked about it."

Ennis frowned. "Ya did?"

"Yeah. Alma was nice enough ta come sit with my Ma for awhile yesterday while I went up ta Lightning Flat. Seems like they got on real nice. In fact, Alma came back today and spent most a the morning, said she was comin back after supper."

"Well damn, but don't that beat all," Ennis said, hardly believing it. "But even if Alma don't believe her, she could tell…other folks. Folks at her church, or even the law. Shit, Jack, she could tell folks you'd tried ta mess with her worse'n she told me, just ta get you in trouble. Ya know there's folks who'll believe most anything bout…ya know."

"You really think she'd do that?"

Ennis shook his head. "I don't know what ta think. Was a time I'd'a said no way, but…" He had to pause and gather himself again. "Now I'm startin ta think I don't know my own girl no more." He rubbed at his eyes. "Might be I'm losin her, Jack, much as it pains me ta say it. Dunno if this can be fixed."

"Don't say that. Don't never say that. Ain't nothin final. She's jus hurt n scared from you movin away, musta been fer all these years n hidin it, n along come these folks with a way ta lash out and she's takin it. I think she'll grow out of it."

"You think so?" Ennis was willing to grasp at any straw.

"I think so." Jack paused. "Maybe I just hope so. I sure's hell don't wanna think about you bein on the outs with yer child because a me."

_I don't wanna think about that either_. "I hope you're right, cause I am too far gone, Jack. Cain't give ya up now, not fer nothin."

"Glad ta hear it, cowboy," Jack said, and Ennis was glad to hear the smile back in his voice. "Oh, I jus got them photo albums. Was takin em ta show Ma. Thanks fer sendin em."

"Yer welcome."

"How're things there? Any more trouble?"

"No, been pretty quiet. Junior's moved inta her dorm now, Lizzie went up ta bring her some things from home while I was still elbow-deep in heifers. Calves all got born now. Some a the boys come over ta have a few beers tonight."

"Ya think…it's safe? Fer you ta leave?" Ennis could hear the hope in Jack's voice.

"I dunno, maybe. I'll wanna give it a day or so, make sure."

"I sure hope so. I, uh…" Ennis heard Jack clear his throat. "I been missin ya real bad, friend," he said, much quieter.

"Yeah," Ennis said. He couldn't say any more. How could he sit here on the phone and say what was going through his head? _Please come home, Jack, cause I don't know what ta do here and I am worse'n a fuckin blind man without ya. I know ya gotta take care a yer ma but God help me sometimes I don't care about yer ma, I jus want ya home with me where ya belong, where I can see ya and touch ya and hear yer voice, cause the silence you left behind is gettin inta my damned bones and makin me not care about the ranch or the calvin or Lizzie or even Junior and I jus wanna go ta where you are and if them assholes wanna tear this place apart then let em, and damn you for bein so fuckin much ta me that I don't care about nothin but gettin back with you._ "Me too," was all he said.

* * *

When Jack got back to his mother's hospital room, Alma was there. She'd brought some kind of cake along, and she and Grace were both eating pieces off paper plates. "Oh, Jack!" Grace said, beaming at his entrance. Jack smiled back; every time he came into her room, his mother acted like she hadn't been expecting to see him and had been afraid that she never would again. "My heavens, I am a popular gal tonight," she said. "Alma brought me some a her carrot cake, and it is mighty tasty."

Jack sat down on the other side of his mother's bed, exchanging a brief glance with Alma. "That's real nice, Ma."

Without a word, Alma cut another piece, put it on a plate and handed it across to him. She somehow managed to do this without looking at him once. Jack smiled and took it. "Thank you," he said, and took a bite. "Mmm-hmm, this is awful good, Alma," he said, meaning it. It wasn't quite as good as Marianne's carrot cake, but no one's cooking was as good as Marianne's. "Is this cream cheese frosting?"

"A course," Alma said, picking up her own plate. "Cain't have carrot cake without cream cheese frosting," she said, a hint of a scold entering her voice, as if chiding him for even suggesting otherwise. She glanced at his plate, blinking as he downed the cake in four large bites. "You, uh…want another piece?"

"Nah, thanks," he said, setting the plate aside. "Gotta watch my girlish figure." He picked up the photo albums. "Brought these ta show ya, Ma. Ennis sent em along. Some pictures a the ranch and such."

"Oh, that was awful sweet a him," Grace said, as Jack scooted his chair closer to her side.

He nodded. "He has his moments." Alma was gathering her things and rising.

"Well…I'll leave y'all ta look at those," she said, without much conviction. Jack could tell she was curious about the photos but didn't want to intrude.

He made a split-second decision. "Why don't ya stay?" he said. "If ya'd like ta see any a these photos, yer welcome."

Alma hesitated, then shook her head. "Maybe I'll have a look some other time. You all visit, now." Her expression warmed as she looked at Grace. "I'll come by tomorrow n see you, Grace." 

"That'll be lovely, honey," Grace said. Alma left, glancing at Jack as she went.

Grace drew the first album onto her lap opened it to the first page. "Oh," she breathed. "Jack…is that him?"

The first few pictures in the album were of the ranch how it had looked when they'd bought the place. Brokedown and dilapidated; it was hard for even Jack to believe it was the same ranch and he'd been there for the whole transition. He'd set out to document their whole process, even though more than once Ennis had called him a "picture-snappin fool," and on one of their first days on the property he'd snuck up on Ennis as he was digging old paving stones out from under the porch railing. He'd straightened up and leaned on his shovel, looked towards him, and Jack had gotten him just like that. The brim of his straw hat shaded his eyes, a half-smile curving the corner of his mouth, his t-shirt damp with sweat. It was one of Jack's favorite pictures. "Yeah, that's my Ennis," Jack said, the ache of missing him rising again like a gorge after too much drink. He looked up to find his mother watching him, watching his expression, knowing that she could see everything in his eyes, everything Ennis was to him. Her face was overwrit with too many words for Jack to read.

She reached out and patted his hand, smiling a little sadly. "He's a handsome one."

Jack nodded. "I think so too, Ma."

* * *

Marianne put two cans of herring in the shopping cart, reconsidered, then added two more. Since Lars had been hanging around so much, they were really going through the stuff. She got out her list and made a neat, architectural check-mark next to this, the last item, and went to the checkout.

She was waiting for Stan to add up her purchases when she felt a tickle at the back of her neck, that feeling of being watched. She looked around, trying to seem casual, and saw a greasy-haired head duck behind a display of baked beans. She pressed her lips together. _Calvin Showalter. Great._ From what Walter said, Calvin was definitely one of the ringleaders causing their recent trouble. _What's he want with me, anyway?_ she thought, irritated.

Stan helped her load the bags into the truck and scurried back to the market with her cart. When she went around to the driver's side, Calvin was there, leaning against the door like he owned the place. "Excuse me," she said.

"Well, well," he drawled. "If it ain't one of the queer-lovers."

"Let me pass, please."

"I know you work out at Fag Ranch. What you do for them, anyhow?"

Marianne sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "I polish their knife collection. And I sharpen every knife daily. Now will you get the hell out of my way?"

He turned, leaning a hand on the truck, his piggy little eyes sweeping her up and down. "Ain't right for a nice girl like you, got a husband and kids, to be hanging around them queers."

_All right. I have reached my bullshit tolerance level._ "Calvin, you will get the _hell_ out of my way right this second, you hear me?"

His eyes narrowed a little. "Little uppity, ain't you? You learn that from them faggots?" He slunk a step closer. "You like hanging around them? Do you watch em suck each other's cocks?"

The retort just came tumbling out before she could stop it. "Why, do you want to watch, too?" she snapped.

Blood slammed into Calvin's face. Marianne saw it coming just a fraction of a second too late to duck; the back of his large, working-man's hand crashed across her face like a sledgehammer. The pain exploded inside her skull and she staggered sideways but didn't lose her feet, to her relief. Calvin was yelling something but she didn't hear him because she was somewhere else, she was some_one_ else, someone she used to be and he wasn't Calvin but the shadow that had fallen over that long-ago self, and lessons she'd made herself learn years before came flooding back; she'd allowed them to rust and atrophy but some things never left you.

She straightened up a little. "Oh, you need some more medicine?" Calvin sneered. "Goddamned bitch probably never…" That was as far as he got. Marianne stepped forward and stomped on the arch of his foot as hard as she could, glad she'd worn her workboots today. She shut her eyes, grimaced, and thrust her knee where she thought it ought to go and felt it connect soundly, and Calvin's wheezing gasp was the reward. She stepped back, her chest heaving. His face, now purple, was contorted with rage and pain. He took one shambling step toward her. Stark terror zinged across her nerve endings and she let out a yell, then smashed her elbow blindly into his face. She felt something crunch.

Then, she ran.

* * *

Liz found Ennis in the stable, just where she thought she would. He'd been withdrawn and morose since last night. He'd gotten a phone call, from whom she didn't know, but when he'd emerged from the bedroom after a good hour's absence, the grim expression on his face and the stormclouds lingering around his brow broke up the post-calving party in a big hurry. This morning he had barely said two words to anyone.

Of the many things she'd learned about Ennis in her residence here, one of the first was that when he was upset, he liked to be around the horses. He'd brush them and talk to them and sometimes just sit with them, as if their heavy, silent presence was a weight to hold down his flyaway thoughts.

He was brushing Gretchen. She was tempted to assign some deep psychological meaning to the fact that he was caring for his daughter's horse, but that might be pushing it. "You okay?" she asked, leaning against Gretchen's stall door.

"Mmm," he said. It was barely a response, let alone a "yes" or a "no."

"You've been pretty quiet since last night."

He sighed. "Got things on my mind."

She nodded. "Well…nothing bad has happened in a few days. Nothing since the tires."

"Yeah."

"You think…maybe…"

"What you think I got on my mind?" he said sharply. He stepped back from Gretchen, shaking his head. "I been thinkin maybe it'd be okay ta go out there for a coupla days. Then I think maybe I jus think so cause I want to so goddamned bad, and I really shouldn't." Liz wondered what had happened last night, but she wasn't going to push it. He could tell her if he wanted to.

"Well," she said, "It's been quiet. We still have the patrols. I don't think the world will come to an end if you leave for a few days."

Ennis put the curry brush away, and Liz fell into step with him as they left the stable. "Real damn temptin," he said.

"Why don't I call the airline, and see when I can…get you…" She trailed off and they both came to a speechless halt.

There was a sheriff's cruiser coming up the driveway. Ennis glanced down at her and she saw that same _What now?_ expression in his eyes that she knew was in her own, and they both took off running for the front drive.

Walter was just getting out of the driver's seat when they reached it; the passenger door opened and…_Oh my God._ Liz heard Ennis suck in a breath as Marianne climbed out of the cruiser. Her nose was crusted with blood and she had a hell of a shiner.

Ennis strode over to her, ignoring Walter. Liz saw Marianne's set, resolute face start to crumble as he approached, and when he reached her he bent close, taking her face in his large hands and turning it this way and that. "I'm okay," she said, but she was blinking fast and sniffling. "Really."

Ennis turned to Walter. "What the hell's this?" he growled.

"Lady had a run-in with our friend Calvin Showalter."

"He do this?" Ennis thundered. Liz came to Marianne's side and put an arm around her waist as Ennis turned his attention from Walter to Marianne. "What'd he do ta you?"

"He saw me at the grocery store. Waited for me at my car. I think he just wanted to…you know, say some nasty things, but I guess he didn't like what I had to say back, so he hit me."

"You arrest the son of a bitch?" Ennis said, turning back to Walter.

"Well, I will. When he gets out of the hospital."

"The…hospital?"

Walter allowed himself the tiniest smirk. "Lady broke his foot and his nose, and I don't think he's going to be wearing close-fitting pants for at least a week."

Ennis stared at Marianne, his mouth open. "Ya don't say," he said.

She squared her shoulders. "Well, he asked for it."

"Why'd you bring her here?" Liz asked Walter. "Where's Kenny?"

"I called him, he's on his way in from a job site," Marianne said, sounding a little husky now. "I asked him to pick me up here. I just wanted…I thought I ought to…" She was looking up at Ennis helplessly. "This is where…"

He nodded. "I know, darlin." Liz knew, too. Over these past few days it had started to feel like they were all together in some guerrilla war, bonding in the trenches, digging in and keeping watch. Marianne had ventured out into enemy territory and had been hurt, and it was to the trenches that she'd wanted to return. Liz stood by as Marianne leaned against Ennis's chest. He met Liz's eyes over Marianne's head as he held her gingerly, and she saw it there on his face. Amidst the anger and the fear and the shock there was the disappointment, and the realization that he wasn't going anywhere, not for awhile.

* * *

_three days later…_

* * *

Jack spent most of the two-hour drive talking to himself. Talking himself up, talking out what he'd say. _Might as well a wrote it all down n memorized it,_ he thought. What he'd say to his father. The right words, the perfect words that would light John Twist's face with sudden understanding and make him say "You sure are right, Jack. How come I never seen it before? We'll do jus like you say."

He sniffed. _Yeah. I ain't holdin my breath._

The day before, he'd moved his mother into Cedar Crest, with Alma's help. To his unceasing surprise, Alma seemed to have developed a real friendship with his mother. She'd been to see her every day in the hospital. At first he'd sat by during her visits and said nothing while they talked knitting and child-rearing and cooking and gossip and which news anchors they thought wore toupees, but whatever connection they'd formed did not really include him, so he'd started using the time afforded him by Alma's visits to attend to other matters.

He'd spent hours driving around Gillette, inspecting the neighborhoods, locating the other hospitals and Dr. Nightingale's office firmly in his mind, seeking out the stores and the churches and keeping his eyes open for houses with For Sale signs in their yards. He's been to every store that sold to the ranching population, chatting up the proprietors, sizing up the local operations, sleuthing for any occupation that might suit a sixty-five-year old former ranch operator who might just possibly be persuaded to move to town.

He'd driven by Alma and Monroe's house a few times, wondering if Francine was inside, and if she was plotting some kind of awful retribution against him. Accusations, such as the ones she'd voiced to Ennis or worse. And what was going on at home? He and Ennis talked every night, but their conversations were strained with the stress they were both under, redoubled by hardship of having to suffer it alone and further multiplied by their desire not to burden the other with their own toils. Calvin Showalter's assault on Marianne had damned near made Jack puke his guts out. Only the knowledge that little Marianne had put Showalter in the damned hospital…Ennis had been damned near gleeful when he'd related that part of the story…mitigated his horror that an innocent woman, who'd done nothing but care for them like they were family, should become a target by association.

Now Marianne was away again, gone with her kids to visit her mother in Rochester at her husband's insistence…her husband, who was now patrolling the ranch at night in his own turn. Jack had listened with growing fury as Ennis told him that Showalter had pled guilty to assault and gotten probation, so he was walking the streets a free man. "Least everybody knows he got his ass whupped by a woman half his size," Ennis had said.

"How everybody know that?" Jack had asked.

Ennis chuckled. "Oh, Marty made damned sure everybody know."

So now it was just Ennis and Lizzie at home, and Showalter likely embarrassed into even greater fury and probably more dangerous for it. All Jack's hopes for a visit from Ennis had been dashed, and he had no idea when he'd be able to go home himself. He couldn't leave everything in such a state. He scarcely knew how he was holding it together now. If it hadn't been for Alma, of all people, he'd really have been in dire straits. Her help in moving Grace into her new home and making it nice for her had eased his burden considerably. She'd bustled about Grace's new apartment, cozying the place up with things Jack had brought from the ranch house, asking where Grace wanted things and bringing potted plants while Jack stood by, bemused, his usefuless over after he'd carried everything in. He didn't know how long he'd be in Lightning Flat with his father, and the knowledge that Grace would have Alma to check in on her was comforting.

He knew that Alma's benevolence was not thanks to him but to his mother. Just before he'd left, he'd taken Alma aside to once again thank her for her kindness to Grace. Alma hadn't even let him get out the entire sentence before she was brushing it aside. "Ain't no burden," she'd said. "And don't you go thinkin I done it fer you. She's a kindness ta me." She'd hesitated, looking at her shoes, then said very quietly, "Almos like havin a mamma around again."

Jack forced his mind back to the task before him. He was drawing near now. The roads were washboard beneath his tires, the blue of the winter sky curved above him like a bowl and put him in mind of driving through a snowglobe.

When he pulled into the ranch's yard, his father's truck was not there. _Son of a bitch, I done told him when I was comin, he coulda least been here._ Just another way to make sure Jack knew who was in charge, he supposed.

He got his bag out of the car, stashed it in the upstairs guest room, then sat down in the living room to wait.

It was twilight before his father appeared. No explanation was offered for his absence. "Cold tonight," was his only comment.

"Dad, we gotta talk."

"Then talk."

"No, you come in here and sit down, and we gotta talk serious."

John leveled his flat gaze at Jack, who didn't let himself drop his own, and finally he took a seat in the rocker. "Okay, I'm sit down. What?"

"We gotta talk about Ma." Jack took a breath. "Dad, she cain't come back here. Her docs say it ain't no good fer her lungs. With her condition, she gotta be nearer ta doctors n hospitals, and she need a nice warm house, not a dry and drafty old farmhouse fulla dust n pollen."

John pursed his lips. "So my house ain't good enough fer you now, that it?"

"Dammit, it ain't me! I'm tellin you what her _doctors_ say! She coulda had pneumonia, Dad! You know older folks get ta having breathin troubles."

"I ain't got none."

"Well, you must be made a fuckin pig iron, but she ain't and I am sayin she cain't come back here unless you want her ta be sick all the time n die before her day's come." Jack watched his father's face. He could see the play of conflicting impulses. He wanted to simply contradict everything Jack said on principle, because he was in charge. He wanted to deny that the problem existed, because that was his way. But he didn't want his wife to suffer, and Jack could only hope that this would rule him.

"You sayin…she gotta stay in town?"

"That's what I'm sayin. I found her a real nice place ta stay, for the time bein."

"Time bein? What else is there?"

_Oh boy. Here we go._ "Dad…I think it's time for you ta give this place up. Sell, and move ta town. Get a nice little house where you n Mom can live comfortable. Have yourselves a retirement proper."

He waited. His father's lower jaw worked back and forth like a horse over a mouthful of carrots. "I guess you jus wanna put the old man out ta pasture, then?" he said, bitterly. "Or maybe ya'd jus rather send me ta the glue factory."

_Any glue made outta you'd be brittle n never hold nothing together._ "Don't you go gettin yer pride all het up," Jack said. "This is about what's best fer Ma."

"How's it best I give up our only livin?" John shook his head. "Naw. What the hell d'you know, anyway? I sure's hell don't need some little _pissant_ ta tell me how ta care fer my wife!"

_How old do I gotta get before I ain't a pissant no more?_ "Dad…how you think you gonna work it? Her down there, you up here? You cain't be up here all by yourself, what if somethin happens? You gonna do fer yourself? You gonna let her live down there on her own?"

"I gotta earn our keep, and if you put her in some kinda fancy place, looks like I gotta earn double!"

"I am payin for her livin, so you don't hafta…"

"I don't need your filthy queer money!" John yelled, standing up. His voice was shaking with anger. "I ain't a charity case fer you and that…that _man_ you got!"

"Since when is it charity ta take care a yer own?" Jack exclaimed, rising to his feet as well, if only because he didn't care to be shouted down to.

"It ain't. And I will take care a my own without yer help, sonny."

"How you gonna do that, huh? You cain't support two households on this rundown old place…hell, you can barely support one!"

"You always hated this place. Thought it was beneath you, with yer big dreams and yer high-flyin ideas," John hissed, stepping closer to poke Jack in the chest with his index finger. "Now with yer fancy ranch n yer fancy money it's no more'n a dog turd ta scrape off yer boot! This family been on this land over a hunnert years and I ain't sellin on yer say-so!"

"There's other ways ta earn yer keep," Jack said, trying to keep things rational, which was starting to seem impossible. "I looked into it, and there's jobs n things you could do down in Gillette, you ain't gotta be no charity, you ain't gotta take nothin from me if you don't want to…"

"_I ain't leavin this ranch long as I'm alive!_" John shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. "You hear me, boy? This land all we got and I ain't givin it up until I am cold in the ground. Then it pass ta you, and I guess then you can sell it if you want, since cause a yer perverted queer ways, you ain't got no son ta leave it to no more."

Jack stiffened, the words arcing through him like an electric current. He opened his mouth but nothing came out; the abject cruelty of this taunt left him speechless. His father glared at him for another moment, then stalked out of the living room and up the stairs without another word.

He stood there motionless for a few beats, then sank bonelessly to the couch again, his eyes staring sightlessly into thin air.

* * *

Ennis waited impatiently for Jack's call. He ought to be in Lightning Flat by now, talking to his father. He'd said he'd call in the evening once he'd had a chance to lay out his ideas, let Ennis know how it had gone and how long he thought he'd be staying there.

The hour grew later, and finally at ten o'clock Ennis went to bed, but not to sleep. He sat up with his book, although he was too distracted to really read it. When the phone finally rang, he jumped and grabbed for it, talking over the operator to accept the charges. "Jack?"

"Hey."

"Well? How'd it go?"

A brief, bitter snort. "Bout how you'd expect." He sounded hoarse and dispirited.

"You don't sound so good, bud."

"It don't matter. I am sittin here in the kitchen and thinkin up reasons why I shouldn't go upstairs n strangle him in his sleep. So far the only one I got is that I don't wanna go ta jail."

Ennis sighed. "Didn't go over, huh?"

"Like a fuckin lead balloon. Said he'd never sell, said he didn't need my queer charity, you can fill in the rest yourself."

"Stubborn bastard."

"It's hopeless, Ennis."

"It ain't. Hey, you got ta me, didn't ya?"

"Took eight goddamn years. Fraid I don't have that kinda time." Ennis was growing more and more alarmed by how Jack sounded. Even when he was down or discouraged, there was always a little curl of it'll-all-work-out around the edges of his voice. Ennis didn't hear that now. He sounded like he didn't even care to make the effort anymore.

"You'll convince him. Jus gotta…I dunno…"

"Gotta what, Ennis? You got some magic words I can use?"

"I'm jus tryin ta…"

"I know what yer tryin ta do." Jack sighed. "Things he said ta me…man don't say things like that ta his son if he's got any feelin at all."

"What'd he say?"

"It don't matter."

"C'mon, Jack. Buck up."

"Ain't jus that. Had Bobby on my mind last coupla days. Been talkin bout him ta Ma, showin her the album with his pictures in it. Tellin her stories bout him, when he was a kid…she cain't seem ta get enough a hearin bout him. Can understand why, seein's I never saw fit ta let her meet him."

"Yeah," Ennis said.

"Keep thinkin about all the stories I don't know, cause I weren't around. Then thinkin there ain't never gonna be no _more_ stories." He fell silent for a moment. "I'm jus feelin down, is all," he said, making an effort to sound less depressed. "Didn't go well with Dad, and I'm missin you, and it's all kinda backin up on me jus now. Don't worry bout me none."

Ennis bit his lip in frustration. _Wish was somethin I could say ta cheer him up,_ he thought. _Then again…maybe there is._ He shifted in the bed, moving the receiver to the other shoulder, looking around the room. He cleared his throat, feeling a blush rise to his face. _I cain't believe I'm gonna do this._ "So, uh…Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh…I guess…I'm s'posed ta ask…" He cleared his throat again. "What you're wearin."

"What I'm wearin?" Jack repeated, sounding confused. "Well…regular clothes, I guess."

"Ain't that how it goes?" Ennis said, suddenly unsure. Maybe he had it wrong. It wasn't like he'd ever done this before. "Then I say…uh…what I'm wearing…"

He heard Jack suck in a breath and choke a little. "Oh! I see what…you actually…Christ, Ennis," he managed, coughing. "All them times I asked…now you…now yer tryin…" His words were lost in more coughing…but as it went on, Ennis realized with alarm that Jack was not coughing, he was _crying._

"Aw, darlin…c'mon, now…don't take on so…"

"Fuckin bastard father…hates my guts…" Jack sobbed. Ennis felt like his heart was being drawn slowly out of his chest down along the phone cord and across the miles that separated them, spun into a thin, agonized ribbon to hear Jack like this. "Threw it in my face how Bobby died cause a me," he said, barely comprehensible.

Ennis sat up straighter. "He said fuckin _what?_"

Jack didn't seem to have heard him. "Family goin ta hell…Ma just gonna get sicker…takin his shit and stuck out here while yer getting tires slashed n folks getting beat on…" Ennis sat stock still, the phone clutched tight in his hand, listening helplessly as Jack dissolved into sobs; he didn't say anything for a few moments. Gradually, he got himself under control, and when he spoke again he was intelligible, but shaky. "But with all that, I still got a man who swore he'd never have phone sex in a million years but was gonna give it a try jus ta cheer me up." Ennis swallowed hard. "God, I wish you was here," Jack murmured, sounding like tears were threatening again.

"Me too, baby," Ennis whispered, locked in with iron bars, caged and thrashing, one of the bulls Jack used to ride bucking in its cage to be let out just to run where it wanted to go.

Jack sighed. "Christ, this fuckin headache. I gotta get some sleep. Call ya tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah," Ennis mumbled, barely getting it out before Jack had hung up, his mind racing. He set the phone back in its cradle and sat there in bed, arguing with himself.

_You cain't. Ain't possible. Not now, not right now. Give it some time. He'll be okay. You ain't gonna. What if…_

That thought was cut off by another one, more insistent. _I don't fuckin care._

Ennis leapt out of bed and yanked the bedroom door open. He strode down the hall to Lizzie's room and hammered on the door. He heard her snuffle and call out. "Huh? What?"

He didn't wait. He opened the door and stuck his head in. "Lizzie, wake up. C'mon now."

She sat up. "I'm awake…what is it? Something happen?"

"Naw, I…need yer help. C'mon, let's go."

She slid out of bed and followed him down the hall to the office, belting her robe around her. "What's going on?"

"I need ya ta call the airline. I need a ticket."

She blinked, her face still muzzy with sleep and disorientation. "Ticket? Where you going?"

"Goin ta Jack."

That seemed to wake her up a little. "Ennis…you're going?"

"Goin right now. Can you get me a ticket while I pack?"

"But…what's the rush?" She grabbed his arm. "Something happen out there? Is Jack okay?"

"Naw, don't think he is. Jus…" He raked both hands through his hair. "Shoulda gone before. Cain't waste no more time. You know Jack, acts like he's always okay, but he ain't. I gotta go."

"Okay, okay…I'll get right on it. Are you going to tell him you're coming?"

"He'll just tell me not ta come. Better he don't know till I'm there, it'll spare him frettin while I'm on the way."

"Ennis…" she said. He turned back from the doorway. "What about…you know…"

"Lotsa folks here ta look after the place. Jack's got nobody lookin after him." He met her eyes. "Ain't that I don't care bout what happens here, but…he's gotta come first."

"I know, you don't have to explain. I've been hoping you'd go. But…it's so late. I don't know what flights I can find at this hour, you might have to wait, or make a stop…"

"Swee'pea, I don't care if you hafta send me by way a Japan, you just get me to him."


	23. Chapter 23

Jack woke up in the guest bedroom of his parents' house. His eyes felt scratchy and raw from the undignified crying jag he'd had the night before. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment to remember it. _Sobbing on the phone like a goddamned girl,_ he thought. Ever since the day he'd met Ennis, Jack had felt a vague but all-pervasive pressure to impress him. Ennis was…well, he was such a man's man. Jack himself was no delicate flower but next to Ennis, sometimes he felt like he might as well be wearing a dress. That whole first summer on Brokeback, Jack had felt a deep need to prove that he could shoot as straight, ride as long, and be as tough as Ennis was. He wanted Ennis to think well of him, and being a tough guy seemed the quickest route. After their relationship had changed this need had only increased, to cement that silent agreement they'd made that they weren't queer. Over the years the need to prove that they weren't queer had eased up, even for Ennis, but Jack had never lost that desire to impress Ennis; to measure up to his standard of masculinity. In his head, he knew it was silly. Ennis respected him. He'd seen Jack cry before and didn't seem to hold it against him. But what he knew in his head didn't matter. He was still embarrassed to have cried over the phone, and a niggling voice in his mind kept whispering to him that Ennis thought he was a sissy crybaby and had gone to sleep after their conversation wondering how he put up with it.

He stared at the ceiling, his bed feeling large and cold without another body pressed close. What he wouldn't have given to feel Ennis's long, lean form tucked against his side, to hear the even pull and draw of his breath, to look down at his sleeping face and see his lashes laying against his cheek, the light spray of freckles across his nose, the glint of morning stubble on his jaw. _Dammit. Gonna start up again any minute._

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. It was light outside; his father was probably up and gone. Jack picked up his watch. It was almost nine, which was an unfathomable hour to just be waking according to John Twist. He was probably out there muttering about his lazy-ass son, who lolled about in bed instead of working for a living.

_Just get your stuff and get out of here. Go back to Gillette. Come back here when you've got something concrete to show him._ But what could he show him? A job, or a house, or a plan? Would that make a difference? No chance in hell. He'd just find another way to be a stubborn asshole, and he always had that "my son's a faggot" trump card to play, that non-negotiable position that didn't cede to things like logic or rationality and that always reduced Jack once again to that little boy cowering on the floor before his father's rage.

He dressed and went downstairs, coming into the kitchen just as John entered. The old man snorted, shaking his head. "I already done a full day's work, and you jus rollin outta bed."

Jack couldn't resist rubbing his face in it. "Well, on _my_ ranch, I don't gotta get up so early. I got staff ta do the early mornin work."

His father stood there at the sink, rinsing out a coffee Thermos. "Think yer pretty slick, don'tcha? Think ya got it all over me?"

"For Christ's sake, it ain't about you!" Jack exclaimed. "Yer always thinkin that everythin I do is jus ta stick it ta you!"

"Ain't it?" John said, turning around. "Comin here flauntin yer faggot ways n all yer money n braggin about all them hands ya got on yer fancy ranch! You ain't gonna make me out ta be no fool!"

"There ya go again! Try n get this through yer thick skull, old man…_it ain't about you!_ I done what I done ta make a life fer myself n Ennis where we can live in peace n comfort."

"Live in sick perversions, ya mean."

"So you say. But that ain't got nothin ta do with you, neither." Jack straightened a little, considering. "Or maybe it does. Maybe I'm queer cause I saw what a miserable bastard you were and I jus wanted ta be nothin like you!"

His father's head whipped around, eyes blazing, and he took two steps toward Jack like he meant to attack him bodily. Jack just stood there, wondering if the old man had the nerve. John stopped, his face twitching. "I want you outta here," he said, his fists clenched. "I don't wanna see your face or hear nothin more from you, not about yer ma, not about this ranch, not about nothin. You got that?"

Jack nodded. "I got that. I'll be goin. But I'm gonna be back, ya hear? This ain't over, cause there's still Ma ta consider, and I ain't gonna let nothin slide jus cause you n me cain't fuckin stand each other."

John didn't respond. After a few more moments of hard glaring, he turned and stalked out. Jack went upstairs, grabbed his bag, and left as fast as he could.

* * *

It was still dark when Liz woke just after seven o'clock. Coffee time.

She shuffled out to the kitchen wearing Lizzie's Coat over her nightgown, smiling to find Lars playing solitaire at the kitchen table. "Morning," she said.

"Morning!" he said, returning her smile. "I made coffee!"

"Thanks." She poured a cup and joined him. "And thanks for coming over. I don't think it was necessary, but that's Ennis for you."

"Glad to help out!"

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Ennis just doesn't want you here alone," Lars said. "And I don't blame him, with all the tomfoolery going on around here. I'm mighty glad he decided to go spend some time with his fella. Sounds to me like they could both use it."

Liz nodded. "Agreed."

"I think he's right to be concerned, all the same. Word that he's gone off to Wyoming is sure to get out, he's probably afraid that if they know he's not here, they won't be able to resist causing more trouble."

Liz blinked. "Yeah…" she said, the kernel of an idea forming in her mind.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said. "Be right back." She jumped up and ran into the office. After a few panicked moments when she couldn't find her Rolodex (it was behind a box of printer paper), she found the number she wanted and dialed it.

"Hello?" said the sleepy voice on the other end of the line.

"Walter? I'm sorry to wake you, but you said I ought to call if…oh, this is Liz Baskerville, over at the ranch?"

"Liz?" the sheriff said, now sounding wide awake. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, things are fine, but…" She took a breath. "What would you say if I told you that Ennis had left town for a few days, that I was the only one here?"

"I'd say you'd better be careful, especially if word of that got around. Might be pretty tempting…" He trailed off. Liz grinned; she could almost hear the same idea come into Walter's mind that had come to her own. "Liz, are you suggesting…"

"It would be tempting, yeah. Tempting like peanut butter in a rat trap."

"I'd better call Erland. I'll get back to you in a bit."

* * *

Alma knocked at Grace's door, balancing the kettle on her hip a little precariously. "Come in," Grace said from inside. "Oh, Alma!" she said as Alma entered, smiling brightly. "Didn't know you was comin by today! What a nice surprise." It warmed Alma's heart to be welcomed for no other reason than the pleasure of her company. Not because she was required to cook a meal or do some laundry, but just because Grace was glad to see her.

"Afternoon, Grace. I was makin split pea soup so I doubled the batch n brung you a pot." She went to the stove of Grace's small kitchen and put the pot on to warm up. "You had yer lunch yet?"

"No. I went down ta that dinin room fer breakfast, though."

"Oh? Ya meet any nice folks?"

Grace shrugged. "I dunno. I ain't used ta bein around so many people. Lots of em are quite a bit older'n me. I did have a nice chat with a lady who's here recoverin from hip surgery."

"Well, y'always got me," Alma said, smiling.

"That is a blessin," Grace said. "Ya been so kind ta me, Alma."

She sat down in Grace's other chair. "Ain't no trouble. Come ta think a you as a friend, truth be told."

"Me, too." Grace smiled sadly. "And I know that cain't a been easy, what with Jack and all."

Alma sighed. "You ain't Jack. You n me bein friends got nothin ta do with him."

Grace nodded. "He ain't a bad man," she said quietly.

Alma was silent for a moment. "I know he ain't." She shook her head. "Everybody jus wants me ta make nice with him. Junior, n Ennis, and now you. Thinkin I'm all unreasonable ta be holdin a grudge."

"I ain't said you was being unreasonable, honey."

"I can be polite, but…what he done ta me n mine…" She pressed her fingers to her mouth. "I don't think I can ever forget." She glanced at Grace, feeling sheepish. "I'm sorry, I ought not ta badmouth yer boy ta yer face."

"You ain't said nothing ain't true."

Alma leaned forward, anxious to change the subject. "I jus don't know what ta do about Francie."

"She still keepin ta her room?"

"She won't come out, not even fer dinner. I hear her sneakin out at night ta eat. She done ambushed Jack at his hotel, then called up Ennis…" Alma shook her head. "Said some awful things. Things even I cain't think of without it givin me a nasty turn."

"Young folks searchin fer who they are can come ta turn inta someone their folks don't like," Grace said, her knitting needles starting up again. "Sounds like she's real angry, n confused."

"If she cain't forgive her dad fer leavin then it ain't my place ta tell her she's wrong, but the things she says…I don't guess anybody deserves that."

"Must be real heavy on Ennis."

"Oh, I know it is. He sets such a store by both a his girls, though truth be told him n Junior always had more in common." Alma leaned back in her chair, watching Grace's face. "Can I ask you somethin kinda personal?"

"Sure ya can."

"I don't wanna upset you none."

"Don't guess ya will."

"D'you…" Alma cleared her throat, hoping there was a tactful way to ask this question but despairing of ever finding it. "D'you ever wonder if it was somethin ya done? I mean…about how Jack is?"

Grace stopped knitting and looked off into the distance for a moment, then over at Alma. "Do I? Every day, honey. Wonder…did I mother him too much? Was I too easy on him? Then I wonder about his dad…they never got on well, there was trouble when Jack was a boy…" She trailed off and turned her head away; Alma's heart sank when she saw the shine of tears at Grace's eyelids.

"Oh…Grace, I didn't mean ta…"

Grace sniffed and turned back, the shine gone. "Maybe it was that his dad weren't no friend ta him. I dunno. What makes men like him how they are? What about Ennis?"

Alma blinked, the question startling her. "Ennis? Oh…I dunno. He got on all right with his ma. His pa was awful hard, though. But ya know, he'd still say that he ain't."

"Ain't what?"

"Well…queer."

Grace looked confused. "He'd say he ain't queer?"

"Yeah, I heard him say that."

"But…"

"Yeah, I know," Alma said, a bitter smile coming to her lips. "If he ain't, he's sure livin like one. But he says that he ain't never looked at no other man. Just Jack. So he ain't queer."

"Huh. D'you think that's so?"

Alma sniffed. "Hell, no. Cain't pick n choose, can ya? Ya are or ya ain't. And if it is just Jack, then it's one helluva coincidence that outta six billion people he jus happened ta meet the one man in all the universe he was queer for, ain't it?"

* * *

By the time Ennis finally crossed the Montana border into Wyoming, it was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon and he'd been traveling since midnight.

Lizzie hadn't been able to find him a flight out of Burlington, so he'd driven to Boston to catch a 5:00 a.m. flight to Denver. Once there, he faced a decision. He could either rent a car and drive to Lightning Flat, or catch a quick flight to Billings, rent a car there, and drive to Lightning Flat.

It was an eight hour drive from Denver to Lightning Flat. It was only an hour and a half flight to Billings, but from there it was _five_ hours to Lightning Flat. The way he saw it, it was six of one or a half dozen of the other. In the end, he'd taken the flight to Billings in no small part so he could catch another hour's worth of sleep. He had managed to sleep for most of the five-hour flight to Denver, but he sure as hell didn't want to be tired behind the wheel in the snow-strewn roads of Montana. At least it was daylight. That was something.

He'd only been to Lightning Flat once, and it had been summer then. Now, in the wintertime, it was like being in the Arctic. The landscape was desolate, the brightness of the sky above and the sun off the snow arrowing directly into Ennis's eyes as he drove, the outlines of the mountains on the horizon sharp and crisp in the cold air that was so dry it seemed to sparkle, sucking the moisture from his lips and making his eyes water.

The roads leading to the Twist ranch weren't paved. Ennis drove carefully in the four-wheel-drive pickup he'd insisted on at the rental agency, the necessity of focusing on his driving happily distracting him from thoughts of what would happen when he arrived. He'd see Jack, that was the most important thing. Or so he kept telling himself. The specter of Jack's father and his shotgun loomed between him and what he'd come for. He ran scenarios obsessively in his head, background noise for this high-maintenance road trip. _Will they see me drive up? Will Jack realize it's me? Will he come out, or will I have to go to the door? Will his father be there? If he is, should I hug Jack anyway? All I wanna fuckin do is hug my man…well, I wanna do more, but that'll hafta wait fer sure. I oughta just hug him no matter what, and if it crosses Twist's eyes then that's too fuckin bad. Maybe I oughta wait. Could make things tenser with Jack n his dad. Don't wanna undo any progress Jack's made with the old man by gettin all over him. Oh Christ…what if Jack's out on the land or somethin when I get there? What if he's gone inta town and I gotta stand there n make small talk with his father? A course both a them could be gone…guess I'll hafta just sit in the truck. I shoulda called ahead. Why didn't I just fuckin call ahead? So fired up ta get goin I couldn't take five minutes ta call n say I was coming…a course he'd a just told me not ta come, probly get in a big fight over it._

And so on, and so forth, and round and round for the entire five hours of the trip. The idea of standing face to face with John Twist was unsettling even without all these logistical worries, just by virtue of his relationship with the man's son. He thought of Junior, and of his typical fatherly unease with the idea of her dating boys. She already had, he knew, but there'd been no one serious. It was only a matter of time, though. Eventually she'd meet a man and Ennis would have to deal with him, and the fact that he was possibly having sex with his daughter. Someday she'd get married, and then he'd have to deal with the fact that this man was _definitely_ having sex with his daughter. Just the thought of it made him shudder and twitch.

Now he'd be standing on the other side of the demilitarized zone. He'd have to look John Twist in the face while they were both aware of the fact that Ennis fucked his son on a regular basis. It had been hard enough for Ennis to get used to being around their _friends_ when everyone was aware of their relationship. That specter of what went on in the bedroom was always there in a way that it wasn't for men that slept with women, and Ennis had simply been forced to disregard it. Now, facing Jack's father…

_Goddamn. How the hell'm I gonna do this?_

He did have something on his side: rage. He had good reason to hate John Twist, not only for trying to shoot him, but for everything he'd done to Jack. It had taken years for Jack to confess to him what his father had put him through, and with each new revelation, Ennis's anger grew. He didn't show it to Jack much, knowing that it wouldn't help, but it was real enough. He could picture Jack as a boy, a defenseless child of six or seven years old. He could close his eyes and see him there, he could watch as the little boy was beaten, humiliated and pissed on. When he thought of young Jack huddled there, crying, all he wanted to do was gather him up in his arms and protect him, to dry his tears and shush him and tell him that he wouldn't let anybody hurt him, ever.

And he wouldn't let the old man hurt him _now,_ either. He'd promised Jack years ago that he'd be civil, but he'd be damned if he'd stand by and say nothing while Jack was insulted or demeaned. Fuck that.

As he drew nearer, Ennis grew twitchier and twitchier. All the what-ifs spinning in his head were making him dizzy, he was building up pre-emptive rage over all the horrible things he imagined Jack's father saying, and underneath everything he was so anxious to see Jack that he thought he might jump out of his skin. He'd already abandoned the idea of restricting himself to a hearty handshake if John happened to be present. He didn't care if the old man burst into flames or ran for his shotgun again, he was going to hug Jack hello that was that. He could wait to get his tongue into Jack's mouth, but he couldn't stand there and maintain some ridiculous two-foot safety zone between them when he hadn't seen him in ten days.

The sign pointing down the long drive to the Twist ranch looked lonely and spare, standing in the middle of a great, unmarked expanse of nothing. The drive was little more than a shallow collection of overlapping tire tracks. Ennis took a deep breath and headed down the drive, his heart hammering hard against the inside of his chest.

The house appeared, looking even bleaker than the last time he'd seen it, and once again he marveled that somehow this desolate place had produced someone like Jack, someone with enough love and optimism even to drag Ennis's sorry ass into happiness, kicking and screaming.

He pulled into the dooryard and stopped the truck. For several moments he just sat there, listening to the engine tick. No one came out of the house. There was a beat-up truck off to the side, but no other vehicle was in sight. _Shit. Jack ain't here. I'm gonna hafta wait and try not to throttle the old bastard in the meantime._

Well, it couldn't be helped. There was nothing for it. Ennis took a deep breath and shut his eyes, trying to pull himself together. He didn't want to seem like a fidgety, shifty asshole when he faced the old man.

Leaving his bag in the truck (thinking vaguely of quick getaways), Ennis walked to the front door, steeled himself, and knocked.

After a long pause, he heard footsteps, and then the door opened.

His first reaction was an absurd kind of satisfaction that John Twist was shorter than either himself or Jack. For all Ennis had built the man up in his mind, he just looked like a weathered old man, barely a few hairs left on his head, grizzled and gray-faced and wearing overalls that had seen better days. Better decades, in fact. "Who're you?" the old man grumbled.

Ennis cleared his throat and tried to draw himself up. "I'm Ennis Del Mar, Mr. Twist." He didn't think he needed to say anything more to identify himself.

Twist's eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened into a thin white line. "Del Mar," he said, the words nearly lost in a growl. He jerked his chin up at him like you'd do to an uppity youngster, then stepped aside and motioned him indoors.

Ennis looked around the kitchen, his bafflement at how Jack had come from this place only increasing. He turned around and faced Jack's father, who stood ramrod-stiff in the doorway and regarded him with a piercing, squinty gaze. "Goddamned invasion a faggots," Twist muttered.

"You wanna keep a civil tongue there," Ennis said. The effort required to keep his voice steady and calm was damned near superhuman.

Twist sniffed and didn't seem to make much of this chastisement. He looked Ennis up and down. "Don't look queer," was his pronouncement.

Ennis put his hands on his hips and stared the man down for a few beats. "Look, Twist, we ain't never met before. You this fuckin rude ta everybody ya meet, or am I jus lucky?"

Twist's jaw worked over the words before he spat them out. "So," he said, not acknowledging Ennis's question. "Guess you be my son's…_husband,_" he said, somehow making the word sound like the vilest of epithets.

"Am I?"

"S'what he called ya."

_Christ, Jack. Ya gotta go outta yer way ta piss him off?_ "It's as he says, then."

Twist sniffed. "What're you doin here?"

"Come ta help Jack. Got a lot ta deal with on his own."

"He don't got ta deal with nothin. I got things under control."

"Huh," Ennis said. "That so?"

Twist took a step forward. "It's so, and I don't care what that little pissant told you was goin on here but I ain't no limp-dicked codger needs takin care of."

Ennis matched Twist's step forward, his temper flaring. "Now, you look here. I did not come here fer this but I'll be damned if I'll stand here n listen ta you call Jack names when he come out here for no other reason but ta help. And it ain't you needs it, it's his Ma. He is tryin ta do right by her and I'd think you'd want ta help, bein that it's yer own wife."

"I can take care a my wife. But he come in here with his fancy clothes thinkin he's some kinda bigshot sayin he's gonna take care a her like I ain't her husband, like I ain't even a man."

Ennis shook his head. "He cain't win with ya, can he? Ya got after him fer not makin nothin of his life, now ya gettin after him cause he _did_ make somethin of his life."

"What d'you know bout it, anyway?"

"I know it all," Ennis said, his temper bubbling higher. "I know ya hadta make yerself big by beatin on a defenseless little boy n makin yer own wife scared ta step in."

Twist's eyes were practically vibrating in their sockets, but he took a step back. "Boy needed correctin," he muttered. "Fer his own good."

Ennis reined himself back with effort. "I ain't come here ta get into it with you, Twist." _And fuck, but you don't deserve ta share that name with him._ "I jus wanna see Jack."

"He ain't here," Twist said. "Drove back ta Gillette this morning."

Ennis sagged. _Shitfire. Two more hours a drivin._ "Ya know, you coulda said somethin when I first walked in here."

"Guess I got distracted. Damned faggots keep showin up on my doorstep."

_Jesus fucking Christ, I'm tired._ "I'll be on my way, then." Ennis headed for the door; Twist didn't look up or acknowledge him as he passed.

Ennis just wanted to be gone. He'd never been called a faggot to his face so often in such a short time. It had been a rare occurrence in any case, but he'd had to learn to grit his teeth and let it go by him. Hearing it from this man was different, somehow. It was personal in a way that it wasn't when it was shouted across a bar by some drunk asshole out to impress his equally drunk buddies. Twist _meant_ it to cut, he meant it to degrade, and he meant it all the more when it was his own son. The man was full of bitterness and spite that struck Ennis hard, not because he didn't understand it but because he did. Twist hated what his son was the same way that Ennis had once hated it, hated himself and anyone who suspected the truth…and had even hated, which he still had not forgiven himself for.

To make it worse, anyone with eyes could see that the old man felt threatened in an alpha-dog sort of way by Jack's presence. His money, his action, his initiative…implicit in all of them was that John was lacking, and that just made him want to bare his teeth and go for the jugular. Ennis could only imagine what had transpired that morning to make Jack drive off so quick. He'd been planning to stay up here a couple of days when last they'd spoken.

Ennis got back in the truck, regretting even more that he hadn't called ahead.

* * *

He had Jack's room number at the hotel. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed inside, glancing around to see if anyone was noticing him…no one was, of course. There wasn't even anyone at the front desk.

He took the elevator to the third floor. _What if he ain't here, either? Could be visiting his ma or out having dinner or takin fuckin harmonica lessons for all I know._ It was just after six o'clock, not the most ideal time to find him in his room, but what else could he do? Drive around town looking for Jack? He didn't even know what kind of rental he was driving. He'd knock on his door and if he wasn't there, he'd go down to the lobby and wait for him.

This decided, Ennis felt better as he emerged on the third floor. Jack's room was about halfway down the hall. He felt his stomach tying itself into knots as he approached. _Why the fuck am I nervous? It's jus Jack, fer Christ's sake._ Nevertheless, as he stood before the door, he had to take a moment to compose himself.

He knocked, listening for sounds from within. He heard rustlings and footsteps, then saw the peephole go dark as someone looked through it.

The door opened and there stood Jack, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. Ennis couldn't help himself; the smile was an involuntary response to the sight of Jack's face. They just stood there for a moment, neither one moving. Jack shut his mouth with a snap and swallowed. "Ennis, wha…"

Ennis pushed past him and walked into the room. He heard Jack shut the door behind him. Keeping his back carefully turned, he put down his bag and his keys on the bed, then took off his hat and coat. He could sense Jack right behind him; he didn't have to look to know he was there. Ennis squared his shoulders, took a breath and let it out, then turned directly into Jack's arms. They folded together hard, less an embrace and more a swift lock, collide and fuse, fit like puzzle pieces and snap in place where they belonged.

Jack exhaled and Ennis could feel him shaking. "What're you doin here?" he said, muffled against Ennis's neck, clutching big handfuls of his shirt.

Jack's body beneath Ennis's hands, how he'd missed that plane and swell of his back, the firmness of his man filling his arms, the solid weight against him, holding him in the world, and ten days was a long fucking time. "Had ta come," Ennis said. "How you was on the phone last night…went straight ta my gut ta hear ya soundin so low."

Jack drew back and took Ennis's face in his hands, his eyes roaming all over it. "Ya heard that I was upset and you jus got on a plane?" He looked like he couldn't quite believe it.

Ennis nodded, holding Jack's hips close against his own. "Actually I drove ta Boston, then got on a plane ta Denver, then another one ta Billings…"

"You musta been travelin all night!" Jack was shaking his head. "Didn't waste no time, didja?"

"Hung up the phone n packed a bag. Couldn't wait until mornmmppphhh…"

Ennis's words were cut off by Jack's mouth on his, and then his eighteen-hour trip didn't matter, the unpleasant exchange with John Twist was a distant memory, the problems at the ranch seemed far away and all was right with the world because he was here with Jack and they were melting through each other again. Jack's hands in his hair, pulling and gripping, his lips opening under Ennis's own like they were dancing, in and out, push and pull, switch and tilt and bump noses, Ennis's arms wrapped around him restless, roaming around searching for a way to hold him closer. "I cain't believe you're here," Jack said against Ennis's mouth. "Wanted ya here so bad but knew ya couldn't come."

"Shouldn't," Ennis said, economizing with his words, resentful of any kissing time spent speaking. "Hadta." He lifted his hands to Jack's head and held him in place, leaning forward to kiss the breath from his lungs, Jack's hands on his arms, press hard, mark his lips so their shape was on his own, let him know how this was it, this was everything, and it was him who'd drawn Ennis across the country in a mad rush to get here, get here quick.

He felt Jack's chest hitching and drew back, resting their foreheads together for a moment before he wrapped him up again, Jack's tears wetting his shoulder. He felt Jack sag into his arms, the tension in his body releasing, and Ennis held him close as he wept again, quiet like a snowfall. He turned his head and pressed his lips into Jack's hair, that familiar Jack smell like a welcome back, welcome home, ain't this what you've been missing?

It was what he'd been missing. He stood there in that hotel room laced tight with his man and felt life pouring into his near-spent batteries, plugged back into the circuit that they made between the two of them, the current flowing when they touched and keeping their lights burning even when they were apart.

Jack's tears, surprised out of him by Ennis's sudden appearance, trickled off and he pulled back, smiling and wiping his eyes. "Lookit me, cryin like a damn fool," he said.

"Ya got reason."

He sighed, his hands resting on Ennis's back, then sliding down to grab two solid handfuls of his ass. "Hope yer long trip ain't got ya too tired," he said, a flirty curl appearing at the corner of his mouth.

Ennis chuckled. "After more'n a week alone in bed? I'd hafta be dead to say no." He slid one hand up to cup the back of Jack's head. "And I ain't dead."

"Not yet," Jack said. He pushed Ennis back until his legs hit the bed, forcing him to sit down. In a flash Jack was kneeling between his legs; he darted his head forward and caught Ennis's mouth with his, his hands snaking between them to undo Ennis's jeans. He drew back and pulled Ennis's boots off, then yanked his jeans and shorts off, his eyes never leaving Ennis's.

Ennis grabbed him by the upper arms and pulled him close again, gasping into his mouth as they kissed and his naked groin rubbed against Jack's jeans. Jack was unbuttoning Ennis's shirt, his mouth trailing down Ennis's neck and chest, pausing to flick his tongue over his nipples. Ennis sucked in a breath and leaned back on his hands as Jack held his hips steady, nuzzling his face against Ennis's belly, his stubble rasping against the unweathered skin there. "Christ," Ennis breathed; Jack pushed him further back onto the bed and lay down in the V of his spread legs, teasing him with kisses to his inner thighs before finally taking pity on him.

* * *

By the time they'd both managed to get fully undressed and into bed, they'd both come twice: once in each other's mouths, and once while just writhing against each other in their impatience. "Whoooo-wee," Jack breathed, coming into Ennis's arms and tucking himself close to his side. "I think I need an intermission or somethin."

Ennis held him, his body feeling warmed-through and loose-limbed. He tilted Jack's face up with one finger and kissed him, a slow, gentle, talking-without-words kind of kiss. "Fella might think he'd been missed," Ennis said. "Gettin a welcome like that."

"That fella'd be right," Jack said. "Missed awful." He slid one arm across Ennis's chest and hugged him. "Still can hardly believe you're really here."

"I better be after all that fuckin travelin. Didn't know you'd come back here, so I went right ta Lightning Flat."

Jack lifted his head and met his eyes, frowning. "Ya talked ta my father?"

Ennis nodded. "A bit. Cain't say I much like him."

"I hate the fucker," Jack said, his head falling to Ennis's shoulder again. "Had some more words this mornin. That's why I left instead a stayin like I planned."

"Wondered about that." Ennis's fingers combed idly through Jack's soft hair. "Don't s'pose ya said nothin that mighta riled him up none, didja?"

Long pause. "Well…"

"Yeah, I thought so, once I heard you'd been tossin that h-word around."

"Why shouldn't I use that word, dammit? Ain't we made our vows?"

"Cause it ain't really true, darlin. We can use it between ourselves, but sayin it ta other folks…jus askin fer trouble, specially with yer dad. Thought you was gonna at least try n get along, fer yer Ma's sake."

"I did, Ennis. Honest. I jus don't know what else ta do."

"Well…we'll hafta think on that. Come up with somethin."

Jack turned his head and kissed Ennis's chest. "I think better with you around anyways." He sighed, squeezing Ennis a little. "How long can ya stay?"

"Don't know. Didn't really think about it. Few days, I guess."

"Ya nervous about the ranch? I mean…much as I'm happy ta see you, makes me uneasy ta think no one's looking after it…"

"There's plenty a folks there. Got Rod and Stubbs and two men on patrol all night, and Lars said he'd stay at the main house till I got back." He slid down a little so he could look Jack in the face. "I was scared ta leave too, but…couldn't have ya here alone no more," he said, running a finger down Jack's jawline, so straight and fine. "Ranch'll be fine for a coupla days. Got friends n neighbors ta help. Yer here all on your own."

Jack slid one hand over Ennis's neck. "Ya know…" He hesitated, downcast eye, a flush staining his cheeks. "I didn't think I could love you any more'n I already did until I saw you standing outside the door here." He raised his eyes and met Ennis's. "Here's a man couldn't even leave the state ta see me fer years n years, man who almost turned me away when I drove sixteen straight hours…naw, don't look like that, ya know ya damned near did…and here he is, flown n drove all night ta get ta me, didn't even wait ta get a night's sleep in him, just cause he thought I needed him."

Ennis sighed. "I, uh…don't know what ta say, Jack." He did know what to say, or at least what he wanted to say. _I didn't think I could love you any more'n I already did until I heard ya cryin on the phone n couldn't do nothin but listen, and right then I knew that I'd move heaven n earth fer you, n give it all up without a second thought, n if we hadta move or sell the ranch or watch it burned ta the ground by fuckin hatemongers I could take it as long as I got you with me, and if the tire irons come fer us then it'll a been worth it cause a short time livin's so much better than a long time dyin, and I'd be dyin if I couldn't be with ya, dyin slow n gradual, dyin from the inside out. Took me seven years…nah, took twenty years…fer me ta know all that, really know it fer real, n once I did I hadta look you in the eye just ta make sure that you knew it too. Then when I seen ya tonight, knocked me back fer a second cause I seen that you knew it all along._

But before Ennis could even begin to think about how to put these thoughts into words, Jack, as always, was sparing him from the struggle.

"You don't gotta say nothin. Ya said it with what ya done. Fer a long time I was scared ya'd bolt, Ennis. Get too anxious a folks knowin, or those goddamned tire irons, or God knows what else ya find ta worry about. When we first moved out ta the ranch, was hardly a day I didn't expect ta find ya gone with maybe a note sayin ya couldn't do it after all, that ya couldn't live it with me like ya wanted."

"Was some days I felt that way," Ennis said, the admission a difficult one.

"I know."

"Y'always seemed ta know. You'd find the right thing ta say, or do, and I'd find I could take it another day, then another one."

"I don't worry you gonna bolt no more, Ennis."

Ennis shook his head, his fingers in Jack's hair again. "Good, cause I ain't. Yer stuck with me fer life, Jack." Jack just smiled, and Ennis didn't feel like talking anymore. He pulled Jack close and kissed him again, his hands reclaiming his lover's body beneath the sheets, feeling Jack stiffen and that thrill of knowing that it was Ennis's touch that did that to him, while Jack's touch did the same to him.

"Ennis…" Jack breathed. "Need ya, cowboy…want ya inside me…"

The words sliced a sharp edge of arousal through Ennis's encroaching fatigue and the sleepy warmth of their embrace; he rolled Jack onto his back and settled between his legs, hitching Jack's thighs higher, mouths hitting and missing in their eagerness, lips catching faces, noses, cheeks, necks, biting and grasping, then Jack's hands between them slicking Ennis's erection (_that's my man, always prepared_) and arching his back, tilting up to him, eyes saying do it, do me now, come on home ta me now and Ennis did, finding his home where he always had, in Jack's arms and Jack's body and seeing reflected in his eyes whatever it was about himself that had made this man love him, love him like he wouldn't have believed existed but for feeling it himself.


	24. Chapter 24

When Jack woke up, he was alone in bed. He felt a momentary rush of panic. _Oh God, please don't let it a been a dream, I cain't take it…_ But no. Ennis was standing naked at the window, the gauzy drapes still drawn, looking out. _Goddamn, but the sight a that man unclothed still does me in after twenty years._ Ennis turned when he heard Jack moving. "Mornin," he rumbled.

"What ya doin?" Jack asked, the words lost in a yawn.

"Jus seein if it snowed."

"Did it?"

"Don't look like it." Ennis turned and came back to bed, lifting the sheets and sliding in, his warmth enveloping Jack as he stretched out against him, nudging at Jack's face with his own, seeking lips. Jack offered them up for the taking, meeting moist and warm, quiet and soft, Ennis's fingers long and rough on his back, sliding down to his hip and around to his ass, a firm stroke on Jack's skin, possessive like he was claiming what was his. Ennis drew back, a languid smile on his face. "Slept like a rock."

"Don't doubt it. After hardly sleepin fer travelin, then the workout I give ya once ya got here."

"Mmm," Ennis agreed, ducking his head to tuck into Jack's neck. Jack's arm slid around Ennis's shoulders and he tilted his head back, Ennis's lips warm on his throat, his hair tickling Jack's chin.

"Oughta get up…find some…mmm…breakfast…oh, darlin…" Ennis's mouth was all over his chest, his collarbones, his nipples, and he didn't seem terribly interested in breakfast. He slid down on the bed, arms around Jack's hips, then gently turned Jack on his stomach and slid down further. Jack shut his eyes, resting his head on his folded arms, smiling as he felt Ennis's breath on his lower back. Ennis had never really talked about it, of course, but Jack knew that he had a deep and profound attachment to Jack's ass. He liked touching it, grabbing it, looking at it, getting up close and personal with it and, of course, pounding it through the mattress. After ten days away from it, Jack wasn't surprised that he wanted to get reacquainted with his favorite body part.

A shudder ran up Jack's spine when he felt Ennis's warm lips on his left buttock, his hand cupping the other one. Ennis shifted on the bed to lay between Jack's parted legs so his ass was laid out before him, served up like a fancy dessert. Jack groaned a little as Ennis used both hands on him, kneading and stroking, his mouth making moist little sounds against the pale flesh, his morning stubble tickling. Jack couldn't really move with Ennis lying on top of his lower half but that was okay, he was laid open and exposed to his lover's attentions just as he'd always laid himself open before Ennis, to do with as he would, whether it was painful or joyful, because he couldn't hold anything back from the one that made him breathe. That breath was coming faster now, his cock hard and trapped between his belly and the sheets, his hips making little involuntary thrusts against the cotton as Ennis worked him over good with his hands, his mouth, his tongue and even his voice, little noises he made in his throat that sounded like they were getting away from him because he couldn't help making them, and then, oh then, Ennis had him spread wide and held in place, held down by the hips and dear God his _mouth…_ Jack made a strangled noise deep in his throat, his arms flying down to his sides but he couldn't reach himself because he was held down, at Ennis's mercy.

All at once Ennis grasped his hips and urged them up, pushing his knees forward to raise his pelvis off the mattress. "Nuh," he said, swatting Jack's hands away when he reached for himself. Ennis flipped over onto his back and pushed himself forward, his head between Jack's legs, and a cry tore from Jack's throat as Ennis swallowed him down, all the way one quick stroke, arms circling Jack's thighs so his hands could grip his ass, Jack on all fours now hovering close over Ennis's face, hands grabbing at the sheets, chest heaving, wondering if Ennis had been doing some kind of mouth exercises while he'd been gone because he couldn't remember those lips being this talented. He was thrusting helplessly into Ennis's mouth and Ennis went along, tilting his head back and bobbing to meet Jack's shallow undulations.

"Fuck, Ennis…ya never done me like this…" The words were lost in a moan as Ennis slipped a spit-slicked finger into him. "Ah, Christ!" Jack cried. "Ennis…gonna _shoot_…" But he already was, his back arching as he came from what felt like the top of his head, shooting through the small of his back straight out his cock, Ennis's arms wrapped around his waist and holding him tight to his face. "Shitfire," he muttered, raising up so Ennis could slide back up the bed. Jack fell onto his chest, panting. "Oh sweet mother a Christ," he gasped.

"Like that?" Ennis murmured, smirking, looking very pleased with himself.

"_Like_ it? Fuck, that was some Olympic head ya just gave me, cowboy."

He felt Ennis's chest rumble with quiet laughter. "Guess the judges approve."

Jack lifted his head and looked at him. "Ya never used ta be that…thorough at that."

Ennis shrugged. "Fer all ya been through last coupla weeks, reckon ya deserve a good blowjob."

Jack bent and kissed him, tasting himself on Ennis's lips. "Well, you just lie there, stud, cause I'm gonna do real good fer you." He kissed him again, sliding over on top of his chest and writhing against him in a way that he knew would have Ennis riled up in a matter of moments. Ennis kissed back, tangle of arms and legs and hands in each other's hair, and Jack felt his man's cock brushing his inner thigh, hard and tempting. He straightened up so he was straddling Ennis's hips and looked down at him, running his hands all over the firm muscles of Ennis's chest. His eyes looked back up at Jack, heavy-lidded and dark, his tongue crept into the corner of his mouth and his hands stroking up and down Jack's arms. He sat where he was for a time, grinding his hips down to send Ennis's head arching back, eyes falling closed, those helpless noises back in his throat just like Jack wanted. He reached over for the lube and slicked Ennis up, rearing hard and insistent from his hips, jumping with his pulse. Jack raised up and reached back, seated it where it belonged, and lowered down slow, Ennis's hands grabbing hard to his forearms.

"Fuck, Jack…" Strangled throaty cry then, just how Jack wanted him to sound. He sat down on Ennis's hips, his cock buried balls-deep, stapled together and mated, grabbing at whatever they could reach and settling on fingers laced, arms braced, for Jack to start in. Up and down, like in the saddle, tilt and swirl like at the fair, hang on tight and oh God there's the spot…Ennis's eyes were locked on him, his jaw clenched tight. "Yeah," he gritted out. "Oh fuck yeah…" He dropped Jack's hands and his own flew around to seize his ass, pulling him closer, faster. "Ride me good, baby," he gasped, half to himself.

Jack did as he was told, little gaspy moans escaping him on each downthrust. Mattress was squeaking a little, bouncing with the motion, Jack held onto Ennis's arms for dear life, didn't want to get bucked right off. "Ennis…oh God yeah right there…" His head sagged to his chest and he leaned forward, blindly seeking Ennis's lips. Ennis let go of him and propped up on one elbow, the other hand grabbing Jack's neck and crushing their mouths together, Jack's hips still grinding into Ennis's, gasping now together, sharing the exhalations and feeling the moans in their temples. He felt Ennis tensing; he snaked a hand between them and grasped Jack's cock. "Ya close?" Ennis nodded mutely against Jack's face, stroking him to the brink then over the brink, Jack strangled the cry through his teeth, clenching and twitching, Ennis biting off his yell, bracing and thrusting, Jack felt Ennis come inside him, that rush of receiving, belonging, taking Ennis into his body, wrap his arms around that feeling, Ennis inside him, deeper than just the flesh, deeper than his eyes dark with wanting, deeper than he'd known he went.

He collapsed forward into Ennis's embrace, that familiar gap and empty wetness as their bodies parted. "Goddamn," Ennis panted. "How's it that it keeps getting better with us, huh? Ain't it s'posed ta get worse as ya get older?"

Jack chuckled and kissed the side of Ennis's neck, letting his lips linger there on the damp, warm skin. "Dunno. Practice makes perfect. Plus, you gettin more easy with me every year. Was a time you'd a never told me ta ride ya good."

He grunted. "Sure woulda been thinkin it, though."

"Point is it helps when ya say what ya like, what feels good."

"All feels good. Nothin with you ever feels bad." Ennis turned his head and kissed Jack hard, his hands cupping the back of his head. He drew back and looked into his eyes. "Does me a bad turn ta think we coulda had this fer twenty years stead a seven," he said, quietly.

"We got it now. No use lookin back."

"But…"

"Shush. Don't know that we coulda. Times I think it hadta be the way it was. Couldn'ta gone off right after Brokeback, or in '67. Needed time ta know who we was, how we felt, that it weren't gonna wear off or somethin."

"Ya think so?"

"Maybe. Hell, what do I know? But don't do no good ta think on it, it's all in the past." He looked over at the bedside clock. "And I think we worked each other over enough fer jus now. Almost nine o'clock, got things ta do." He kissed Ennis one more time and got out of bed. He bent over his suitcase, naked, and started pulling out clothes.

"What we doin today?" Ennis asked, not moving from the bed, presenting a very fetching picture lying there on his side, looking fresh-fucked, the flush still on his chest, his well-used cock lying against his thigh in its nest of dark hair. Jack made himself focus on the suitcase lest he get drawn back to bed for another round.

"Well…breakfast, first thing. Worked up a bit of an appetite," he said, tossing a wink over his shoulder. "Then, I wanna take you ta meet my Ma. That okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Be real pleased ta meet her."

"Reckon you wanna see Francie."

Ennis flopped onto his back. "I done thought on that a lot while I was drivin all over creation yesterday. I wanna, yeah, but what good'll it do? Don't guess I can change her mind, all I'll do is give her a chance to say awful shit ta my face 'stead a over the phone."

"Then she'll say it ta yer face. Least she'll know ya done cared enough ta see her."

"I guess yer right."

"Ain't I always?" Jack ducked the pillow Ennis threw at him, chuckling as Ennis got up and walked into the bathroom, presenting a lovely view of the narrow, tight ass that Jack so admired, then promptly spoiling that view by idly scratching that ass as he went. _Ah, my man, he is a charmer,_ Jack thought. He turned back to his suitcase then paused, feeling abruptly overcome. He turned and sat down on the edge of the bed, tears rising to his eyes. Ennis was _here,_ he'd come all the way from Vermont to see him just because he thought Jack needed him, he'd left the ranch and his daughter and everything else to be with him. A bubble of happiness that was damned near painful rose in Jack's chest as he swiped at his face. _The grumpy bastard ain't kiddin around,_ he thought. _He must really love me._ He looked down at the ring on his left hand. _It ain't pretend. Ain't fer show. Better or worse, to love and cherish. No one'd say it for us so we hadta say it for ourselves._ But a marriage wasn't saying the words, it was living like you meant them, wasn't it?

Jack got up and went into the bathroom where Ennis was in the shower. He pulled the shower curtain back and stepped into the stall; Ennis moved aside to make room. "Miss me?" he grumbled.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Jack said. He kissed him softly, then reached down and picked up his left hand, raising it to chest level and putting it to his own, palms together, lacing the fingers so their rings sat there on top, side by side. Ennis nodded, that shy half-smile on his face, appearing and disappearing like cloud shadows on the ground, and Jack knew he got it. "Thank you," Jack murmured. "Fer bein here."

Ennis shrugged, his cheeks coloring a little. "Couldn't leave my fella by himself no more."

Jack smiled. "My hero."

* * *

After showering and dressing, Jack and Ennis grabbed a quick breakfast at the Denny's next to the hotel and were off to Cedar Crest by ten. Ennis was trying not to let on how nervous he was to meet Jack's mother. By all accounts she was a nice lady, not like her husband, and not likely to judge him. Jack said that she was happy that Jack was happy, but then Jack did have a tendency to blue-sky things.

"Y'know, ya might see Alma there," Jack said.

"Yeah?"

"She's been visiting Ma a lot. They've got ta be friends, weird as that sounds."

"Don't sound so weird, actually. Alma's missed her ma somethin awful since she died. Makes some kinda sense she'd like ta have another ma-type person around."

"Yeah, that does make sense. Still kinda weird that it'd be _my_ ma, though."

"Well, I'll give ya that. Does, uh…her bein friendly with yer ma make her kinder on you?"

"Not so's I've noticed. We try ta steer clear fer the most part. I do other things while she's visitin. She ain't rude or nothin. It's like some kinda truce."

"Yeah, I sure heard that," Ennis said. "Me n her got somethin like a truce ourselves." Jack pulled into the parking lot. Ennis looked around at the dark brick exterior. It looked like a regular apartment building. "Nice lookin place," he commented.

"It is nice. I'm obliged t'Alma fer puttin me onto it." They got out of the car and headed inside. The lady at the front desk seemed to know Jack, he touched the brim of his hat and she waved, smiling girlishly at him. Ennis resisted an eyeroll. Jack sure did have a way with ladies. Kind of ironic when you thought about it. That charm with women made them like him when he didn't care one whit about getting into their pants, but it made some men distrust him as too slick, when it was their pants he was after.

_Not no one else's pants no more,_ Ennis thought. _Them pants is off the market._

They climbed to the third floor, Ennis's apprehension growing. Jack seemed to sense his discomfort. "Will ya relax? She already thinks yer Christ down from the bleedin cross cause a me bein happy n all."

"But she's yer ma, Jack. Knowin what we do, like this mornin…"

"Jesus, Ennis, she ain't thinkin about our sex life. Ain't it the way a parents n kids ta pretend none of us have one? Same goes fer us. She's my ma, sure, so if you n me are life partners or whatever the fuck they're callin it these days then she's kinda yer ma too, so _relax._"

They were in front of her door now. Ennis whipped off his hat, rolling it reflexively in his hands, as Jack knocked. "Ma? It's Jack," he said, winking at Ennis. "It'll be a surprise," he mouthed silently.

"Come on in," Ennis heard a slightly tremulous woman's voice from inside. Jack opened the door, beckoning Ennis to follow him with a jerk of his head, and they went inside. Ennis could smell coffee.

The apartment was small and somewhat generic, but it looked like Grace had some personal things around to make it homey. A quilt on the little settee, a vase of flowers, a couple of photographs…he saw the photo albums he'd sent on a side table.

Grace was in the kitchen, her back to them. She turned, smiling, then she stopped when she saw Ennis. "Oh…Jack? This isn't…"

Jack was grinning like a damned fool. "It is, Ma. He come out from Vermont ta see me, surprised me at the hotel last night. Can ya believe it?"

She walked slowly, deliberately, but steadily, approaching them with her hands clasped to her bosom and her eyes shining. "Oh, ain't that sweet," she said, coming right up to Ennis.

"Ma," Jack said, sounding a little choked up. "This is my…my partner, Ennis Del Mar. Ennis, this is my mother, Grace Twist."

Ennis bobbed his head. "Real pleased ta meet ya, ma'am."

Grace reached up and put her hands on his face, bold as you please, and pulled his head down so she could kiss one cheek, then the other. "I'm so glad ta finally get ta meet you," she said.

Ennis nodded, blushing. "Same here, ma'am."

"And none a that 'ma'am' nonsense. You call me Grace now, y'hear? Or even Ma, if ya like." She patted his cheek and let him go. "You boys want some coffee? Sit yerselves down now, take off yer coats."

"I'd love some coffee, Ma."

"How d'you take it, Ennis?"

"Uh…black, thanks." Ennis sat down gingerly on the settee, which felt too dainty for the likes of him, and when Jack sat down next to him it felt like they were sitting way too close together. Their knees were practically touching. "Should we let her get that coffee on her own, with the tremors n such?" Ennis whispered to Jack.

"Tried ta help before, she gets ornery," Jack whispered back. "Best let her do for herself what she always done. With the medication the tremors ain't bad at all."

Ennis nodded, watching as Grace made her careful way back to the little sitting room with two coffees on a tray. She sat down in her rocking chair, smiling. "So, ya came all the way from Vermont? As a surprise fer Jack?" she asked.

"Well…guess so," Ennis said. "Had been plannin ta come out n join him once all our calves was born." He glanced at Jack, not knowing if he wanted his mother to know about how upset he'd been, which was the real reason Ennis had made the trip.

Grace was looking from one to the other. "Jack's had a lot restin on his shoulders of late," she said, and Ennis saw that he and Jack wouldn't be keeping any secrets from her, even if they were trying to. "He don't like ta show it ta me, but I know he's had a lot on his mind." She looked down at her hands. "I hate ta be such a burden to ya, Jack."

"You ain't no burden, Ma," Jack said, vehemently. "I jus wanna see yer takin care of. None of it's yer fault. There's just a lotta things come together all at once."

Grace nodded, gave a little sigh and turned back to Ennis. "But I've been waitin so long ta talk ta this handsome young man," she said brightly. "Heard about you fer years n years."

Ennis felt himself blushing again. "Yes, ma'am…uh, Grace."

"I gotta thank you," she said. "A mother wants her baby ta be happy and ya done made that happen."

He chanced a quick glance up at her smiling face, his cheeks burning. "Weren't jus me," he mumbled.

"Jack's shown me a lotta pictures in them albums ya sent…awful kind a you ta do that."

"My pleasure."

"Musta been a lotta work, ta get that ranch up n runnin."

Ennis nodded. "It surely was, ma'am. The house that was there was damned near fallin down, we hadta rebuild most a the fenceline, put in some new utilities…took most a the first year."

"It sure looks like somethin, from them pictures." She sighed. "I'd love ta see it with my own eyes."

"We'd be real happy fer you ta visit sometime," Ennis said.

Grace nodded. "I hope that's in the cards." She looked at Jack. "Jack, you ain't said…how it was with yer father."

Jack shook his head. "Ma, the man's as stubborn as an oak tree."

"He's just spent his whole life livin one way."

"Everythin I say he takes as a goddamned challenge ta his manhood!"

"John Henry, you watch your language!" she scolded. Ennis held in a chuckle as Jack drew in a little bit.

"I'm sorry, Ma. It's just…"

"I know, I know," she said, holding up a hand. She was silent for a moment. "Thinkin I oughta just go on back ta the ranch," she said. "My place is at my husband's side."

"No, Ma!" Jack exclaimed. "Ya cain't! The doctor said…yer lungs, and ya need ta be near yer doctors…ya cain't make it up there no more, not you nor him neither! It's time ta face the facts a life, and he won't do it!"

"If he won't, then I gotta pretend I don't."

"I ain't lettin you. He can change. Fer once in his life, he can change ta suit someone else instead a the rest of us bendin and breakin ourselves ta suit him."

Grace looked sad. "I don't know that he can, Jack."

"What's the main thing holdin him back?" Ennis asked, feeling useless and hoping he might contribute something.

"He won't give up the ranch," Jack said.

"Does he hafta give it up altogether? Could he maybe rent it out, and keep it in his name?"

"That's a possibility, I guess."

Ennis looked back at Jack's mother. "Now, I guess you wouldn't wanna live nowhere on yer own?" he asked.

"Would you wanna live somewhere without Jack?" she asked, by way of response.

Ennis looked over at him for a moment, then back at her. "No, I sure wouldn't," he said.

"So we're still talkin bout yer father moving off the ranch, no matter what's done with the land."

"Yeah. And that's the bitch of it, that he won't."

* * *

Jack was sent out to the grocery store not too long after their arrival. He agreed to go after a quick nonverbal exchange with Ennis (_you wanna come? No, you go ahead. You sure? I'll stay, it's fine_) and left him there with his mother. He suspected that she wanted to have a few private words with Ennis, although he couldn't imagine what she wanted to say to him.

When he returned, he ran into Alma, entering the building at the same time he was. "Mornin, Jack," she said neutrally.

"Mornin," he said. "Goin ta see Ma?"

"As you see."

"Ennis is up there."

That gave her pause. "Ennis? Here?"

"You bet. Showed up last night. Helluva surprise ta me, but a welcome one."

"Oh, you didn't know he was comin?"

"No idea. Hoped he would, but thought he wasn't goin to."

"He say anythin about wantin ta see Francine?"

"I know he does. Don't know when. Why don't we both go on up there and we can all talk about it?"

He watched Alma's face, the play of emotions across her pale skin clear as day. Wanting to see Ennis but not wanting to see him, worrying about him and Francie having a confrontation, uneasiness to be around Jack and Ennis together. Finally, she gave a curt nod. "All right, then. Let's go."

* * *

Ennis watched Jack leave, the apprehension coming back to him. Sure seemed like Grace wanted to get him alone, but why? What could she possibly have to say to him that she didn't want to say in front of Jack?

No sooner had the door shut behind Jack than Grace was sitting up and looking at him steadily. "All right, then. I've got some things I been wantin ta ask you, Ennis," she said, her voice full of a businesslike, gotta-get-this-over-with tone.

_Shit. She wants ta know how I could let her boy live like this in sin n perversion, or how I live with myself, or what kinda man abandons his daughters, or cheats on his woman with another man, or…_ "Sure enough," he managed, swallowing hard, his hands gripping his knees.

She sighed. "How's my boy doin? I mean, really? He says he's all right, but…" She shook her head. "He thinks I cain't take nothin, he don't want ta tell me nothin troublin, so I'm askin you ta tell me the truth."

Ennis blinked, stunned. Jack's mother was asking _him_ about Jack's well-being? It was like…like you'd ask a mother about her child, he realized, or a wife about her husband. _That's how she sees me,_ he marveled. He cleared his throat. "I guess ya mean about Bobby?" Ennis asked. He wasn't sure how much Grace knew about the beating Jack had suffered last summer, or the troubles they'd had the last few weeks at home.

She nodded. "Worst thing that can happen to a parent."

"It surely is," Ennis said. "Just the thought a losin either a my girls…turns my blood cold." He hesitated. "Well, at the time a Bobby's dyin…was a bad time, I ain't gonna lie to ya. But he seemed ta get back ta himself right quick. Know now that it was jus lyin in wait fer him. Come back at him jus before Christmas. Now he's distractin himself with lookin after you, and worryin on his dad's ranch, but…I think it's still heavy on him."

"That's what I thought," Grace said. "Jack was always one ta put on a happy face n pretend things never bothered him none. I think he thought he hadta be cheerful all the time fer folks ta like him."

Ennis felt shame crawling up the back of his neck, remembering their quarrel on Christmas Eve on that very subject. He knew exactly what Grace meant. _Always gotta be good-time Jack,_ he heard Jack say in his mind. _Looks like I ain't helpin him get over that._ "I know what ya mean," he said, quietly.

"I'm jus glad he has you ta help him."

That was too much. Ennis snorted, blinking quickly. "I try ta help him but I don't know that I am," he said. "I jus don't know what ta do or say ta make it better."

"Oh, you poor boy," Grace said, smiling at him. "You don't gotta make nothin better. Ain't nothin that can do that except time, and sometimes not even that. All ya gotta do is be there fer him, and I know that ya are. Lookit you, come all this way."

Ennis stared at his hands. "Called me from Lightning Flat," he said. "Jus sounded so broke down. Tore me up ta hear him like that, all alone. So here I am."

Grace got to her feet and came to sit at Ennis's side. She reached out and took his hand in a surprisingly strong grip, a grip that had milked cows and wielded tools and cooked thousands of meals and had borne Jack up when he fell. _But I guess that's my job now,_ he thought, squeezing her hand. "I jus know so little a what Jack is even like now. Only so much you can learn on them quick phone calls, and I know he's changed so much. I ask him, but he don't never wanna talk about himself, it seems. Jus wants ta talk about yer business, and friends, and you, a course. Times I feel like I know you better'n I know him." Ennis managed a half-smile. That sounded like Jack, all right. Talk about everythin but what was really important. "Can ya…tell me about him?" Grace asked.

He frowned. "What ya wanna know?"

"Anythin. Don't matter."

Ennis sighed, looking off into the middle distance, wondering which of the approximately eight hundred thousand things he knew about Jack would be appropriate to reveal to his mother. He thought for what felt like a long time, Grace sitting patiently at his side, waiting. "Man likes card games," Ennis finally said. "Knows 'em all. I cain't never remember the rules, he has ta remind me every time. Tries ta get me ta play cribbage, or gin, but I ain't no good at it so he jus plays solitaire." He glanced at Grace and saw her smiling, and knew he was on to something. Ordinary things, then. Regular things. Things you don't know when you don't live with someone. "He's got himself a sweet tooth. Likes cake the best, but cookies'll do just fine."

Grace laughed. "Oh my, he always did love my baking."

"Well, I ain't got the first clue about bakin, but our gal what looks after us, she makes a mean batch a chocolate chip. Well known fact, ya gotta get some before Jack finds out they're fresh, cause it's like a vacuum cleaner. I tell him he's gonna get himself a nice spare tire if he ain't careful, but so far he ain't got one. Works hard round our place. He's a real hard worker. Real good at animal breedin, didja know that?" Grace shook her head. "Our vet says he got a gift fer it. Won a whole bunch a prizes, helped our business a lot that way. He goes ta these conferences all over the country, flies ta meet with big-time ranchers."

"You don't go along?"

"Me? Nah. That's his thing. I jus run the place." Ennis sat back, the familiarity of the topic easing his discomfort. "I give him shit…oh, sorry, ma'am…but Jack's a real smart fella. Lizzie…that's our friend what works in the office…says he coulda been a college man if things been different."

"I always thought so," Grace said, her face full of regret that their lives hadn't been able to give her son that chance.

"Jack…he always thinks things're gonna be okay," Ennis said softly. He was half talking to himself now. "Me, I don't think like that. But times he can even make me believe it. He'll jus look at me n smile, n say 'C'mon Ennis, buck up there. Look on the bright side.' That man and his bright sides." He leaned forward, forearms on his knees and hands clasped, eyes downcast. "Don't know where he comes on it, but them bright sides hadta be bright enough fer both of us fer a long time." He gave a start and smiled, a little embarrassed. "Listen ta me goin on. Huh. Cain't think what else ya might like ta know. He wears a thirty-four average. He likes talk radio, cinnamon gum, funny movies and beer you could stand up a spoon in."

Grace laughed. "Oh my, Ennis. Jack told me I'd have a hard time getting more'n five words outta you."

"Normally he'd be right. Guess I can get chatty when it's a subject what interests me." Ennis looked at Grace's face, so hopeful, wanting to know something real about her son, something she could hold onto when he was back home, and his gum preference wasn't going to do it. _Christ, Ennis. It's yer goddamn mother-in-law, kinda. If Jack's any good it has ta be on her account, cause it sure ain't on his. If ya cain't tell her somethin real, ya got worse issues than ya thought._ He sighed and forced himself to meet her eyes. "Yer son's a real good man, Grace. He's kind n brave, got a big heart. I'm awful proud ta know him." He shut his eyes briefly, then plunged on. "And, uh…I feel mighty strong on him."

A radiant, peaceful smile came to Grace's face, smoothing years off her like an eraser. She patted his hand again. "I jus knew that someday, there'd be somebody who'd see in him what I always knew was there."

He had to ask. "And…it don't bother you none him bein…us bein…" He couldn't get it out.

"I don't question who God sees fit ta send my son fer his happiness. He don't make mistakes, that's what I was taught."

"I was taught it was abomination," Ennis muttered. _Why you pushin her? Said she was all right, didn't she?_

"Was a time they taught that havin slaves was okay, didn't make it right."

Ennis studied her face, amazed. "Yer a mighty free-thinkin lady, ma'am."

"Grace. Don't know what kinda thinkin I am, jus know what makes sense."

"Reckon so. Wish more folks saw that kinda sense."

She met his eyes, straight on. "Ya love my son, Ennis?"

He didn't look away. "Ma'am, I surely do."

"Then God bless you."

Ennis blinked and shook his head. _No, you ain't gonna cry…AGAIN…in front a this nice lady._ "Sorry ta be getting emotional here," he said, turning his face away. "Jus…never thought no one'd ever bless me fer that."

He felt her hand, trembling just a little, light on the side of his head, brushing his hair back, her touch so like a mother's that it made him ache in a deep, long-buried hurt that he hadn't touched in years and years. "The Lord's blessings come ta them that don't expect em," Grace murmured. "And them what think they're most unworthy are the ones most deservin a His love." She leaned closer still, like she wanted to tell him a secret. "Ya think ya might be headin up ta the ranch with Jack sometime?"

"I b'lieve Jack means to, yes. Tomorrow, maybe."

"Well…you take a look round," she said, speaking with an odd kind of emphasis, as if this was very important. "I kept his room like he had it, ain't changed nothing. You…" She hesitated. "You take a good look round," she repeated. She smiled and patted his shoulder like she'd bestowed a pearl of ancient wisdom on him.

"Uh…all right, I will," Ennis said, puzzled.

"I'll be holdin ya to that, son."

* * *

When Jack and Alma returned to his mother's rooms, she and Ennis were sitting on the settee looking at the photo albums. "Hello, hello," he said. "Look who I found downstairs." Alma entered, arms crossed in what Jack by now recognized as her "defended" posture.

Ennis stood up when he saw her. "Afternoon, Alma," he said, ducking his head and looking a little fidgety. "Uh…nice ta see you."

"Ennis," she said, acknowledging him. Her expression softened when she looked at Grace. "'Lo, Grace, how're you today?" she asked, going to the older woman's side and bending to kiss her cheek.

Grace smiled and squeezed Alma's hand. "I'm jus fine, honey. What a fine surprise ta get ta meet Jack's…uh, I mean ta say, yer…" She paused and cleared her throat. "Ta get ta meet Ennis," she finally settled on.

Jack put away the groceries, suppressing a chuckle. This entire situation just kept getting more and more surreal. Ennis joined him; to Jack's shock, he cast a quick glance out at the sitting room and then bent and kissed his cheek. Jack stared at him. "What was that for?"

"Oh, I dunno. Cain't I kiss ya fer no reason at all?"

"In front a my mother and yer ex-wife?"

"They weren't lookin."

"So…what'd my mother want?"

"What makes ya think she wanted somethin?" This exchange was taking place in low whispers out of the corners of mouths.

"C'mon, she wanted ta get you alone, s'why she sent me out for coffee filters when she's got two damned boxes of em in here."

"She jus wanted ta talk."

"About me?"

"Christ, Jack, everythin in the world ain't about you. Get over yerself."

"She's my mother. Everythin in the world _is_ about me."

"Think she jus wanted what every mamma wants."

"Which is?"

Ennis shrugged. "Ta know what you ain't tellin her."

"And I bet you were just too happy ta fill her in."

"Yup. Told her you smoke dope, gamble away half our money and have college boys over fer strip poker every weekend."

Jack jabbed his elbow in Ennis's side, rolling his eyes. "Fine, don't tell me."

"Okay, I won't. Between me n her, anyway. Butt out."

Frustrated, Jack turned to face him, his back towards the sitting room. "Ennis…d'ya like her okay? You two get on?"

Ennis smiled, slow. "She's real nice. I like her fine. She's got…good sense." He shrugged. "Too bad you didn't get none a that."

Jack made a face. "Oh, yer jus too hilarious fer words, Del Mar." Ennis brushed past him on his way back to the sitting room and after a moment Jack followed.

_Wish I knew what they was talkin about,_ he thought. _My ma and my man…God, they got plenty a stories about me ta share, embarrassin on both sides. Comparin notes, him askin if I was always this annoying, her askin if I'm still as much trouble._ He watched Ennis's face as he took his seat next to Grace and he saw a flash of tenderness there, but then it was gone and he was just regular Ennis again, looking put out to be forced into interacting with people.

Jack leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Grace and Alma talking about yarn, Ennis sitting silently by, and it seemed amazing that he'd lasted ten days out here by himself. In a few short days Ennis would go back to Vermont and Jack would likely have to remain; he didn't like to think about it. It was a little humbling to realize just how much he'd come to depend on Ennis. Having him in his life every day for seven years had trained his mind around Ennis's presence. He hashed out ideas by bouncing them off Ennis, he worked through problems by yelling about them to Ennis, he relaxed after a hard day by sitting with Ennis. He'd forgotten how to hash out ideas by himself, or work through problems on his own, or relax in solitude. He'd become…coupled. In a way that he'd never been with Lureen. They'd been coupled in law but not in fact. He and Ennis were coupled in fact, but not in law. He wondered if Ennis felt the same way, but somehow didn't think he did. Ennis was still a lone wolf even if he was coupled up. For a long time, Jack had been convinced that he needed Ennis a lot more than Ennis needed him. He no longer believed that was true. Seeing Ennis outside that hotel room door had done something to him. If Ennis stayed with him only as long as he was fun and no trouble, as he'd long feared, then how did that jibe with a man who'd traveled the better part of a day to get to him just when he was at his least fun and most troublesome? It didn't.

_God almighty damn, that man is mine. No shit and fer real._


	25. Chapter 25

_Author's Note: Well, I really thought there'd be more plot in this chapter. I'd planned to get to Lightning Flat here. But as it turns out, Ennis and Jack had to have an Important Relationship Moment, so about two-thirds of the chapter is given over to that. It's yet another nothing-much-happens chapter, although judging by the response to the last chapter where nothing much happened, you won't mind._

Also, in this chapter I make reference to the fake-robber seduction scene from "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid." I am positive that I've read another BBM fic that makes reference to this scene but I cannot for the life of me remember which one it was. I don't think it was mentioned in the same context in which I place it. No bogarting of ideas is intended. If the author of the fic I'm referring to would notify me, I'll be happy to add a crediting bit to this note.

* * *

Ennis Del Mar would never have believed that he'd be _relieved_ to be alone in a car with Alma, but considering the general strangeness of the situation he was hardly surprised. Spending the afternoon in Grace's apartment hadn't exactly been unpleasant, but he'd had a constant thrum of uneasiness running through him given the company. He wasn't quite sure what hat he was supposed to be wearing. He was there as Jack's partner, and therefore Grace's son-in-kinda-law, so there was that. Alma was there as Grace's friend, which was strange enough, but she was also his ex-wife, which carried its own set of baggage, and they were sitting there with the man who been a significant factor (one might even say the primary factor) in their divorce. Poor Grace had been visibly torn…every time she'd referred to Jack and Ennis's relationship there'd been a tiny cut of her eyes in Alma's direction. Alma, to her credit, had put on an air of disinterest in anything having to do with them and had acted like she, Ennis and Jack had no reason at all to be uncomfortable around each other.

Ennis, on the other hand, had found the entire situation excruciating. Even Jack, who Ennis would have thought could carry on a conversation with God and the Devil and make everyone comfortable, had seemed a bit ill-at-ease.

When Alma had suggested that she bring Ennis back to her house to talk to Francine, he'd been glad for it even when faced with the daunting prospect of trying to communicate with Francie. Now, in the car and away from Jack and Grace, they were just a divorced couple who shared two kids and many years of history.

"That yer first time meetin Grace?" Alma asked.

"Yup."

"She's a real nice lady."

"She sure is."

Alma sighed. "I hope things can work out fer her." She glanced at him. "You'll help, won'tcha? Help Jack convince his dad?"

"Don't know what I can do."

She shrugged. "Well, sometimes dads cain't listen ta what their sons say no matter what it is they're sayin. Like they cain't see 'em as nothin but screw-up kids. Get the feeling Jack's dad's like that."

"And how."

"Maybe…he listen ta you. You ain't his son."

Ennis shook his head, sighing. "Naw, I'm just his son's…he got words fer what I am. He ain't gonna listen ta me."

"I jus wanna see she's situated proper," Alma said. Ennis could see her getting that worry-line between her eyebrows.

"S'nice ya been so kind ta her," he said.

"Well, I ain't done it fer you or Jack, so don't ya go thinkin I did," Alma snapped.

"I ain't said nothin!" Ennis said, surprised by the outburst.

"Sorry," she said, sagging a little. "It's jus a little strange, ya know? Getting ta be friends with…the mother of…ya know."

"Yeah, I know. Still, it's been a real relief ta Jack ta know that she's got you as a friend here, and I'm grateful to ya fer that."

"Jack's tryin ta do right by her," she said, very quietly. "It's…decent a him." It sounded like this admission was being dragged out of her with a chainfall. "Decent a you ta come out n visit, too. He's been lookin pretty worn down, but…" She sighed, her jaw clenching a little. "He seems easier with ya here, so…" This last tumbled out quickly and trailed off just as fast.

Ennis let the matter drop. "So ya sure Francie'll be home?"

"Mos likely. Got outta school half an hour ago. Might have one a her meetins, but not till after dinner. Now's yer best chance."

He rubbed a hand over his face. "Goddamn, what'm I gonna say ta her?"

"I don't know. Nothin I've said's made the slightest difference."

"I ain't too good at this stuff."

"Jus tell her what ya think, how ya feel."

Ennis snorted. "I don't think it'd be too good fer me ta tell her that I think her friends are assholes and she's bein a brat, do you?" He shook his head. "Wish Jack could do this fer me. He always knows what ta say." He glanced at Alma, realizing that might have been a little inconsiderate. "Sorry, I…"

"S'all right. It's true, ain't it?" She pulled up to the house and parked. Ennis took a deep breath and got out of the car, following Alma into the house. He let Alma take the lead to a closed bedroom door on the second floor. "Francie?" she called.

"What, Ma?"

"Yer dad's here."

Pause. "No, he ain't."

"Come see fer yerself."

Another pause, and the door opened. Francine peeked out, and Ennis was shocked at how different she looked. Jack had told him that he had barely recognized her but Ennis hadn't really believed she could have changed that much. Now, he did. "Daddy?" she said, looking dubious.

"Hey, darlin. Was hopin I could come in? Talk ta you fer awhile?"

She looked back and forth between him and Alma. "What is this? Some kinda…you two gangin up on me?"

"No, I jus wanted ta see you."

"Francine, ya know Mrs. Twist is sick, Ennis came ta visit."

Francie's face slammed shut. "Oh. So ya came fer _him_ and seein me's just kind of an afterthought, huh?"

"Now Francie, that ain't fair," Alma said.

"Fair? What's fair, Mamma? Him movin thousands a miles away ta live in sin, the worst kinda sin?"

"Now you hold on," Ennis said, feeling his temper rise and battling it down. "You talk ta me direct now, girl. You say ta me what you wanna say. I come here cause I love ya and I wanted ta see ya. You don't wanna see me, you don't hafta, but I wanna see you."

She thrust her chin forward and put on a determined look. "Ya heard what I said on the phone, Daddy. Long as ya live with that man, I ain't yer daughter, and you ain't my daddy."

"Francine!" Alma gasped.

"I don't make the rules, Mamma! Last time we talked he called me a liar and said he wouldn't talk ta me no more!"

"I never said I wouldn't talk ta you," Ennis said, shaking with suppressed anger. "I will always wanna be there fer you, Francie, but you ain't lettin me. And you _was_ lyin ta me." Alma was giving him a puzzled look. "She tried ta tell me that Jack had said n done bad things ta her when she went n saw him."

Alma turned back to her daughter. "Did you say that?"

"Yes," Francie said, but she didn't, Ennis noted, deny that it had been a lie.

A horrible thought occurred to him for the first time. "Did you tell that ta anybody else?" Ennis asked, having visions of her whipping her holy-rolling friends into a frenzy with tales of verbal and physical abuse at the hands of her father's queer lover. They'd be coming with the tar and feathers for sure.

"No," she said, having the sense to at least look ashamed. "Lyin's a sin, too."

"Ya lied ta _me,_ sure enough!" Ennis said.

"I was tryin ta do the right thing and get you free a him!"

"Good God, Francie," Ennis said, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I don't even know what ta say ta you no more. I don't need ta be free. I done made my choice."

"Choosin him over me."

"Yer the one makin me choose! I ain't never chose him over you! If I'd had my way you woulda been living at our ranch like Junior and I'd see you all the time, and you'd tell me about yer day and I'd kiss ya goodnight…" He stopped, a lump rising in his throat. He blinked, but the tears kept filling his eyes. "I want ya in my life, baby girl," he said, his voice choked. "Yer cuttin me out. If ya don't like how I live there ain't nothin I can do about that. But please, don't say ya ain't my little girl no more," he said, meeting her eyes. "I don't much like how yer livin these days neither, or the things ya say ya believe in, but I ain't never gonna say it's that or me. I'd never give ya up, never. No matter what ya done or what ya think, I'm yer daddy and I love you." Francine's chin was trembling, and she dropped her eyes to the floor. Alma was standing some distance away, watching with big eyes. 

There was a long pause. Without looking up, Francine spoke, her voice strained and tremulous. "If ya really loved me, you'd quit that man." She didn't look at him again, just slowly closed the bedroom door. Ennis could hear her crying inside and he felt like someone was ripping his guts out. Two tears slipped over his eyelids and ran down his cheeks.

He might have stood there all afternoon but for Alma, who gently took his arm and pulled him away. "C'mon, Ennis. Get ya some tea or somethin." He let her lead him to the living room, feeling numb, and sat down. He barely felt the mug of something steaming she handed him after a few moments in the kitchen. She sat down across the room. "Pretty rough," she said into her mug.

He shook his head. "Maybe she's right," he whispered.

Alma was quiet for a long time. "Ya think so?"

"I dunno. But…if it makes her this crazy, how can I keep on with it?"

She leaned forward. "Ennis, are you actually sayin ya might leave Jack and…"

"No. No, I cain't do that. But…" He put down his mug, leaned back against the couch and put his hands over his face. "Maybe it's really gonna cost me Francie and there ain't nothin I can do about it."

Alma put her mug down. "Ya know…when we decided ta move here, she was real upset. Didn't want ta leave her new friends in her church. Sayin we was tryin ta stop her findin the true path, or what have you. Keep thinkin bout what she said. Sounded an awful lot like what she said ta you. Said if we made her move here it meant we didn't care. Said she'd never speak ta us again. Pulled out all the stops."

"Yeah? What happened?"

"Well, she ain't really talkin much ta us, but that ain't no different than it was in Riverton. I cain't see much's changed, honestly. And ya know, I cain't help but remember…she never used ta have such a problem. Used ta look forward ta visitin you at the ranch. Loved the horses and the trees. Come back and tell us how Jack was funny and Marianne made good cake. Got so we was sick a hearin about it."

Ennis sat up, smiling weakly. "Marianne does make good cake."

"I'm sayin it ain't her talkin. And ya know it ain't her."

"Don't matter who's talkin. If she's changed then maybe everythin's changed."

"She might change back. Grace thinks it's some kinda findin-herself phase, and she'll grow out of it."

"Ya talk ta Grace about this stuff?"

"She's got good sense. She raised a boy. That boy might not be my favorite person but far as I can see he's got his head together okay."

Ennis sniffed. "Boy, he's got you fooled good."

Alma ignored him. "I been livin with her opinions fer almost a year, Ennis. She's told me I was goin ta hell more times'n I can count, swore she was movin out, swore that she weren't gonna be my daughter no more if I didn't reform my ways."

"Jesus, reform what ways? What the hell you done?"

"I divorced my husband and offended God. I took the Lord's name and offended God. I wore a skirt with bare legs and offended God. Her God sure is touchy." She sighed again. "I know you ain't used to it. It's hard ta hear. I cried more times'n I can say. But Ennis…I think it might pass."

"Ya think so?" Ennis said, hopefully.

"I sure hope so. Cause if it don't, well…she's my daughter, but I don't know how long I can take it. I ain't gonna tolerate how she is ta me in my own home forever."

"Yer sayin I oughta do nothin."

"Ya cain't talk her out of it, Ennis. What else ya gonna do?"

He sighed. "Don't like ta think a givin up."

"Ain't givin up. More like lettin be. Just fer now."

* * *

Jack returned to the hotel just after five and found Ennis there, lying on his back on the bed, arms folded behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He took off his coat and jacket and sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking down at him. "How you doin, cowboy?"

"Been better."

Jack leaned over and kissed him hello. "Ya talk ta Francie?"

Ennis snorted. "If ya can call it that."

"Didn't go so well, huh?" Jack wasn't exactly surprised, but he'd had hopes that maybe seeing Ennis in the flesh would make a difference.

"Same old crap. If I loved her I'd leave ya, I'm livin in sin, she ain't my daughter no more, perversion n abomination, all that shit."

Jack shook his head. "I'm sure as hell sorry, Ennis."

"Alma thinks it'll pass. Says I oughta wait it out."

"Well, she might be onta somethin there."

"Maybe. I jus wish…" Ennis rubbed at his eyes with one hand. "Jus wish it didn't hafta be like this." He reached for Jack's hand and laced their fingers together. "How's yer ma?" he asked. Jack could tell by his tone that he didn't want to talk about Francine anymore.

"Oh, she's tickled pink. Couldn't stop talkin about ya. If I didn't know better I'd think she was sweet on you."

Ennis flushed and looked away. "Shut the fuck up."

"All I heard after you two left was Ennis this and Ennis that. Ennis is so polite, Ennis is so charmin, Ennis is so considerate, Ennis is so handsome." He was exaggerating a little, but not very much. Having met Ennis, his mother had discovered a seemingly endless wellspring of questions to ask about him. "Spent my whole afternoon talkin about you. Lucky fer me that's one a my favorite subjects, so I didn't mind so much."

"Cain't spend no afternoon talkin about me. Ain't that much ta say."

"Well, she found a way. Even managed ta ask me something I don't know."

Ennis met his eyes. "What's that?"

"Asked me what you woulda done if you'd a kept going ta school. That one stumped me. You told me once that when you was a little boy you wanted ta be a firefighter, but I didn't think that was it. Only other thing ya ever told me ya wanted was ta have yer own spread."

Ennis grew quiet, his eyes watching their intertwined fingers, his thumb gently stroking against Jack's. "Never got far enough ta have nothin in mind."

"You musta had some ideas since, though. You ain't dumb, Ennis. You coulda finished high school, even gone ta college."

He grunted. "Ain't no college boy." He seemed to be thinking it over. "Ya know…I have had thoughts that I mighta made a pretty fair vet. Like Paul. I'm pretty good with animals."

"That's puttin it mild."

Ennis nodded. "Yeah. I'd a liked that. I cain't imagine I'd a made it through all that science and math they gotta learn, though. But even if I'd a gone on in school, I'd a still wanted my own spread and run my own ranch. So turns out I didn't hafta go ta school ta get what I wanted. Just hadta meet you."

Jack smiled down at him. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, guess so."

"How's about we go out fer some dinner? Get a steak?"

"Okay. You wanna go back ta visit with yer ma after?"

"Hmmm, did you fly all this way ta see her or ta see me?" Ennis rolled his eyes. "Nah. We got a big day tomorrow, going up ta Lightning Flat. I am gonna have me some time with you tonight, ya hear?"

Ennis smiled back, slowly. "I'm likin that plan, darlin."

* * *

Jack guessed that Ennis had been pondering that plan all through dinner, because no sooner were they through the hotel room door than he was pulling him close, sliding his hands around Jack's waist, kissing him with lips that still bore traces of the beer he'd had with his T-bone.

"You in a hurry?" Jack teased, kissing back and starting in on Ennis's buttons.

"Ya get me het up, boy," Ennis growled, going in for another deep kiss.

"Not that…I ain't…on board…" Jack said, sneaking the words in when Ennis let go of his lips for brief moments, "but lemme grab a shower," he said, pushing Ennis back a little. "Feel kinda grimy."

Ennis nodded. "Well, ya know how I like ya fresh as a daisy," he said, the sarcasm given away by that little arch of his eyebrow. He slapped Jack's ass as he headed for the bathroom. "Go on then, don't keep me waitin."

Jack showered quickly, paying extra attention to the parts that were likely to see active service in the near future. He was just toweling off when Ennis came in, naked as well. "What, you wanna do it in here?" Jack said.

"Shower sounds good ta me too," he said. As Jack passed by him Ennis grasped his arms and spoke low into his ear. "You get on the bed. No touchin yerself, ya hear?"

Jack nodded. "Yes, sir." He left the bathroom, smiling to himself. So, it was going to be _that_ kind of a night. He felt a little thrill of anticipation run through him. When Ennis was feeling sexy, and actually talked about it, it always meant that Jack was about to get it but good.

He peeled the sheets back from the bed, exposing that nice inviting blank expanse of mattress, then stretched out on it, right in the middle. _Huh. Guess I'm the mint on the pillow tonight._ He composed himself primly, feet together, shoulders propped up by his elbows so he could watch the bathroom door.

Ennis didn't waste any time. He emerged in a few minutes in all his naked glory, half-hard already. Jack grinned at him. Ennis walked to the side of the bed, rubbing at his hair with a towel, which he carelessly tossed aside in a gesture that was inexplicably arousing, like he was in too much of a hurry to get to Jack to bother with the towel anymore and it had to be put from him immediately. "Well, now," he said, looking down at him. "Don't you look all perky."

"I'm getting there fast," Jack said, cutting his eyes to his own cock, hardening under Ennis's scrutiny.

He sat on the bed and stretched out at Jack's side, sliding close and pushing Jack down onto his back. He looked up into Ennis's face as he leaned over him. Ennis laid one hand gently on Jack's chest. "You jus be still," he murmured. "Wanna show ya somethin."

"Yeah? Whatcha gonna show me?"

"You'll see." He bent and kissed him, drawing him up and out, working his lips over Jack's but keeping it light. He drew back and fixed his eyes on Jack's, then slid his hand down Jack's stomach and between his legs. Jack sucked in a quick breath as Ennis's warm hand surrounded him, burrowing beneath to fondle his balls. He let his legs spread a little and arched his neck, straining for Ennis's lips, but Ennis wasn't cooperating. He was holding Jack's gaze hard, piercing, not watching what he was doing but watching Jack's face, countering Jack's attempts to get their mouths together until Jack finally gave up, letting his head fall back to the pillow. Ennis raised his hand to his own mouth and slowly licked the palm, then reached down and grasped Jack's cock, his eyes never leaving Jack's. The eye contact was starting to feel intense. Ennis's eyes seemed to enlarge and swim before him until they were all he could see, while Ennis's touch was all he could feel. Jack's eyes fell partly shut, his breath speeding up as Ennis stroked him languidly, the fingers of his other hand gently brushing along Jack's upper arm. Jack wanted to touch Ennis, but he couldn't really reach much of him from this position, and it was clear that Ennis didn't want him being too active just now. He let his left hand wander down to grasp Ennis's wrist as he was stroked off, the finish coming fast, coming soon, spurred quick by the unwavering gaze of his man's eyes and the erotic silence they'd both fallen into without discussing it. Ennis could feel him tensing, no doubt. His cock was hard as a rock under Ennis's expert handling. Jack let out a quiet moan, and Ennis lowered his head, pressing his cheek against Jack's. "Come fer me, Jack," he murmured.

That did it. Jack cried out and spilled over Ennis's hand, leg muscles locking, abdomen clenching, and before he'd even gotten his breath again Ennis claimed his mouth hard, kissing the end of his release from out of his throat. Jack's mouth opened under his, Jack's free hand coming up to grasp Ennis's neck, and felt himself conquered in peace, plundered with his consent.

Ennis slid over on top of him, gathering him into his arms and easing his hips between Jack's legs, all his movements slow and deliberate, clearly wanting Jack to know that this was on purpose, this was what in his mind, this was how he'd pictured it. Not some abstract, rough-and-tumble coupling that could be written off as the heat of the moment, an accident, a bottle of whiskey, but something intended. It was _meant._

He knelt up between Jack's spread legs and reached for the tube on the bedside table just as Jack held it out to him, smiling a little at the sychronization of their thoughts. He held Jack's eyes again, his hands moving over himself just outside Jack's field of vision, then he was lowering himself into Jack's outstretched arms again, one hand between them, then Jack's mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he was filled, taken by Ennis so strong, so fine.

Ennis wasn't letting him look away. He couldn't close his eyes as long as Ennis didn't, and he wasn't. That gaze, goddamn…it filled the world, it was straight through him like the heat of the sun, all the way through his body, he was pinned there with Ennis's eyes on him and his cock inside him. Hooking his legs around Ennis's hips now, those hips rocking tight, slow and easy, no space between their skins.

_Aw God, Ennis, ya got no idea what ya do ta me. Even that first time, hurt like hell fer sure but I could feel ya, hands on me like they'd been waitin fer me ta be there ta grab, the need a you and how it scared you, but still ya came back and showed it to me, let me see that it was me ya needed._

Jack exhaled, Ennis square above him, resting his hands flat on Ennis's chest, running them up and around his shoulders now and again. "Jack," Ennis breathed, his eyes finally falling closed, sagging into Jack's arms, hitching one knee up as he thrust smoothly into him. Jack cupped the back of Ennis's head, tucked into the crook of Jack's shoulder now. He sighed and let himself float upwards on the tides of Ennis's motion against him, waves of bone and muscle washing upon his shore, cradling him in his body. The sight of it down the sand dune of Ennis's back, intertwined limbs all moving in concert, tree branches in a warm breeze, hard to tell who was who when all he could feel was Ennis inside him and all around him.

Ennis pushed up again, looking into Jack's eyes once more, a question there. "Show me," Jack whispered. "Go ahead n show me." Through all their years Ennis had said little but shown much, which Jack had not always appreciated. Always wanting the words. Wanting a speech, a declaration. He'd gotten it from time to time, but how could he protest a man who was slow to confess his feelings but would fly across the country for him on a minute's notice?

Ennis nodded, bent and kissed him, sweet open mouth and tongue so familiar, cock so hard and taking more of him now, flying swift to meet him. Jack's neck arched, body stuttering up; he wasn't sure he'd get there again so soon, but he was straining for it, cock rubbing between their bellies and Ennis's eyes sending volts through him, then it hit the edge and he was there, they were _both_ there, Ennis holding tight, eyes blazing into Jack's, and he saw what Ennis wanted to show him, saw it clear in the light that danced inside his head as they came together. _I love you, more'n jus them three words can say, and I cain't think a no better words ta tell ya, so I gotta show ya, show ya yer the only one, never was no one else, never gonna be no one but you, love ya forever n if there's longer'n forever then love ya fer all a that too n long after we're dead n buried it'll still be there._

Ennis's eyes were misting over as they came down from it. Jack held his face in his hands, smiling. Ennis smiled back, eyebrows lifting, question in his face. _Ya get all that, bud?_ Jack just nodded, and the worried lines smoothed from Ennis's face; Jack drew him down again, held him close, rained kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, his chin and nose before finding his lips once more.

They lay there catching their breath, and Ennis slid off to one side. Jack turned onto his hip to face him, one hand on Ennis's neck. "Thanks," he said. Ennis grasped his hand and kissed the knuckles. "Show me again?" Jack said, smile widening.

Ennis chuckled. "Maybe later you can show me a thing or two."

* * *

They cleaned themselves up, put on sweats and got into bed with the TV, sitting up close together, Jack's arm around Ennis's chest as he laid half against him. "Fuckin Wyoming TV stations," Jack groused. "Looks like it's news n sitcom reruns fer us." He sighed. "Maybe we oughta get cable at home."

"Cable? What for?"

"They got all-sports channels and movie channels and such. Be more ta choose from than just the crap the networks pour out."

"We don't watch that much TV, Jack."

"But when we do, we might actually get ta watch something decent."

Ennis grunted. "Whatever."

Jack turned his head and pressed his lips into Ennis's hair. "Still thinkin about Francie?"

He felt rather than heard Ennis's sigh. "Cain't see no way ta fix it."

"Some things cain't be fixed right off. Cain't be fixed, gotta be borne." Jack pulled him a little closer. "Ya know…it's all right if ya had a little thought a maybe doin what she wanted ya ta do. Only natural. You could tell me."

"I'd never leave ya, Jack."

"I know that. But she's yer daughter, yer own baby." He hesitated. "I've had my moments when I wished I'd never ranched up with ya, so I coulda been there ta help Bobby, n maybe he'd be alive. So I'd understand, see? Maybe you considered it jus fer a second."

Ennis said nothing for a long time. "Maybe. Jus fer a second. Thing is…even if I did leave ya, which I ain't gonna do, wouldn't make no difference."

"What ya mean?"

"If I left you n moved here, I'd still love ya, whether I lived there or here. And ain't that the thing she's objectin to? Far as I know it ain't against God ta live in Vermont. It's the you-n-me part that's against God. If I moved far away from you, ain't like I could stop wanting ta be with you, or stop bein queer."

Jack froze, and felt Ennis do the same. He took a breath. "Uh…what'd you jus say?"

Ennis slowly drew away and sat up, then turned to face him. "I dunno. Jus…came out."

_Like you jus did?_ Jack thought, but did not say. "You sayin…what the heck're you sayin?" He didn't want to put words in Ennis's mouth, but give him the chance still to back away from it, much as Jack wanted to hear him admit it.

Ennis stared at the sheets for a few beats, then looked up at Jack. "I'm sayin it, Jack." He took a breath, then gave a quick nod, as if to seal the deal. "Yeah."

"Sayin what, exactly?"

"That I'm…ya know."

"Well, yer sayin somethin, but ya cain't seem ta actually get the word out."

"Queer," Ennis said in a rush. He exhaled. "I am. I mean."

Jack had to chuckle at his discombobulation. "That a fact?"

Ennis met his eyes and Jack could see his uncertainty, but also his resolve. "Francie weren't the only thing I thought on while I was driving across Montana the other day. Had some folks point some stuff out ta me a late. Been wonderin why I think I'm so goddamned special. Sayin I ain't queer n all, I mean. Fuck, Jack…I live with a man, sleep in his bed, he's supportin my daughter, and I've fuckin held his hand in church and kissed him in front a fifty people. I'm sure's hell livin like I'm queer, and I sure as hell am takin the hard knocks that go with it."

"But…y'always said ya never looked at no other man, still liked the look a women."

"Women're all right. Nice pair a tits don't go amiss. But…ain't true I never looked at no other man," he said, dropping his eyes and mumbling through this last.

"Aw, darlin. You think I don't know you've looked from time ta time? It's okay. I've looked at plenty."

Ennis's head came up, a frown appearing on his brow. "Ya have?"

"Sure. Like window shoppin. Don't want none of em, cause I got the man I want. But damn, they're some fellas in town with some fine-lookin asses, ain't there?"

Ennis flushed purple and stared at their joined hands again. "Reckon so."

"Axel sure looks fine settin a horse, don't he?"

A smile twitched at Ennis's lips and he risked a glance at Jack's eyes. "Sure does," he muttered.

"And Grant's friend Hobart, damn. He is some kinda handsome. Got real nice forearms."

Ennis nodded, looking away again. "Hadta stop myself starin at em whole time we was playin poker," he mumbled, forcing Jack to lean closer to hear him.

Jack laughed out loud, this admission on top of the intensely intimate sex they'd just had sending his brain carousing into euphoria. He pulled Ennis into a hug and kissed the side of his head. "Oh, darlin. I'm…proud of ya, weird as that sounds ta say."

Ennis drew back, shaking his head. "Ain't easy," he said. "Ain't been easy admittin it, ta myself, let alone ta no one else. That I like…fellas. Apart from jus you."

"Well, the nice part is ya don't gotta do that whole comin-out thing ya hear queer folks talk about. Everbody we know pretty much assumed you was queer, which ya cain't hardly blame em fer that considering our situation."

"Gotta say, I feel kinda relieved. Be nice ta be able ta talk about this with ya." Ennis said. He favored Jack with one of his rare, wide smiles, the kind that beamed like rays of sunshine through the stormclouds.

"Sure will. And if I see a guy walk by with a fine ass, maybe we can both appreciate it," Jack said, winking at him.

Ennis blushed again, then turned and lay back down against Jack's chest, drawing Jack's arm around his own chest. "Ya know, you got awful nice forearms, too," he said, running one hand across the body part in question. "Real…muscly."

Jack grinned. "We aim ta please."

"But listen here, I ain't marchin in no parades or wearin no pink, ya hear?"

"Okay, it's a deal."

"Queer," Ennis said again, quietly, like he was getting his mouth used to the feeling of the word. "That damned word's been hauntin me fer years, wonderin if lovin you made it mine, tellin myself it didn't have to. Always afraid of it. Still am, jus sick a hidin from it."

"Hey," Jack said, remembering something Ennis had said earlier. "You said someone pointed some stuff out ta you. Who you been talkin to about this?"

"Fuckin Lars."

"Lars? Rod's dad? What's he got ta do with you bein queer?"

"Kinda slapped me upside the head about it. Told me this story about his war buddy that was queer, and how Lars hadta tell this buddy's man that the buddy was dead, cause since they was queer in secret nobody thought ta notify him. Got all up in my face cause I told him I didn't like that word. He said…and this is the part what stuck ta me…said by denyin that word I was hurtin all the men come before, suffered without no one knowin, like we was after Brokeback. Said I hadta own it. Got me thinkin. Thought about you, and how you weren't scared of it, and you owned it. Was part a who you are, and I cain't be scared a nothin that's a part a you. So…I'm tryin ta own it."

"Oh, Ennis. Every time I think ya come as far as you gonna, you go n surprise me."

They laid there in contented silence for a few minutes, the local news buzzing in the background. "Had me a dream a few weeks back," Ennis suddenly said. "Gave me a turn."

"Yeah? Dream about what?"

"About…Paul Newman."

Jack was so startled, he couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry," he spluttered, as Ennis leaned back to shoot him dirty looks.

"You ain't helpin, and don't think I don't know bout you swoonin after Steve McQueen."

"I'm sorry, babe. Go on, tell me about yer dream."

"You know how I like that Butch Cassidy movie."

"Sure. Didn't know ya liked it cause yer sweet on Paul Newman, though."

"You want me ta tell you or not?"

"A course, go on."

"Well…in my dream it was like that part where he comes ta the lady's room pretendin ta be a thief…"

"Was Robert Redford did that, Ennis. Paul Newman took her on the bike ride."

"Fuck off, it was Paul Newman pretendin ta be a robber in my dream, okay? Only wasn't her room, it was my room. Came in n there he was on the bed, tellin me ta…ta take my clothes off."

"And did ya?"

"Yeah. It's kinda fuzzy, but…" Ennis sighed. "We did it."

"Hot damn. I never seem ta get that far with Steve in my dreams."

"Woke up with wet sheets. So fuckin embarrassed. And now ya know why I wouldn't never watch 'The Sting' when ya wanted me to."

"C'mon, Ennis. Cain't a been yer first wet dream."

"No."

"Or yer first wet dream about a guy."

He could actually _feel_ the blush, the heat pouring into Ennis's neck and face. "No."

"Ya know," Jack said, slowly and feeling his way. "If that whole fake-robber thing does it fer ya…we could do that."

Ennis snorted. "More playin?"

"Don't gimme that, ya know ya like it. Fuck, I think I'm still walkin funny from that last time the Strict Stock Boss caught me loafin on the job."

"You best watch yer mouth, he's gonna come round again n teach you a lesson."

"Lucky me." He squeezed Ennis one-armed, laying his cheek against his hair. "Ya make me so damned happy, Ennis," he murmured. "You got no idea what ya gave me tonight."

"Nothin ya didn't already know, or so you say."

"Ain't the point. It's like it was the last little brick in that wall ya done built ta keep us apart. Long as ya said ya weren't queer, it was like…you were with me, but you were still hedgin yer bets. Holdin back, jus a little."

Ennis nodded. "Yeah. Think maybe I was. Didn't wanna be, but was like I hadta."

"It's okay, ya don't gotta explain. I get it. I'm jus…glad it's gone now." He shifted and turned so he could look Ennis in the face. "And ya know why I like Steve McQueen, don'tcha?"

"Why?"

"Cause he reminds me a you."

Ennis smiled and snuggled a little closer. "Well, Paul Newman's got some big, pretty blue eyes, but they ain't nothin ta yers."

Jack grinned slyly and pushed on Ennis's shoulders, rolling him to his back and following along to trap him there. "I think I better make sure it's me yer gonna dream about tonight, cowboy." 


	26. Chapter 26

Ennis stretched and sighed, the sunlight streaming in the windows warm on his body. He looked around at the hotel room, then over at Jack sleeping next to him, curled on his stomach with his face burrowed into the pillows. He reached out one finger to brush away a hank of hair that had fallen across Jack's eyes.

He stirred and blinked, looking up at Ennis in bleary half-sleep. "What?" he mumbled. "Lemme alone."

"Said ya wanted ta be on the road by ten."

"Huh?"

"It's after eight. Dunno bout you but I want some breakfast, and I gotta shower. Better get a move on."

Jack groaned and rolled over, rubbing at his eyes and grudgingly accepting wakefulness. He stroked one hand up and down Ennis's arm. "Any visits from Paul Newman last night?" he asked, smirking.

Ennis shook his head. "I am gonna regret tellin you that, ain't I?"

"C'mon, tell me."

"Didn't have no dreams. Slept like a fuckin rock. Musta been all that exercise before bed. What about you? Steve McQueen pay a call?"

"Nah," Jack said. "I did have this weird dream, though. I was playin poker with Arlene and Junior. Junior was wearing this big yellow bird-suit, like Big Bird? Arlene was cheatin and I kept sayin so, but Junior jus kep laughin and laughin. Then you come in on a horse, right inta Arlene's livin room, and told me I hadn't done my chores and I better snap to. So I start runnin, only it's that dream-runnin where it's like you're in water and cain't move fast, plus I'm only in my shorts and there's snow everywhere, then all of a sudden I'm in our back yard and there was a big-ass swimmin pool full a chocolate puddin and I fell right in."

Ennis stared at him. "Then what?"

"I dunno, I woke up."

"You are one fucked-up son of a bitch, ya know that?"

"What d'ya s'pose it means?"

"That yer a fucked-up son of a bitch." Ennis leaned over and kissed him. _But I love ya anyway,_ he thought but did not say. "Christ, I better call Lizzie. See what's goin on at home. I ain't called since I been here, that's two whole days."

"Home. Wish we was there now," Jack said, his voice wistful.

"You n me both." Ennis went to the desk and drew the phone towards him, then dialed the home number. It rang and rang. It'd be after ten o'clock there, Lizzie ought to be around. He was about to hang up when someone finally answered.

"Brokeback Ranch, it's Liz," she said, hurriedly and a little out-of-breath, like she'd had to run for it.

"Hey, city gal."

"Ennis! Oh, I'm glad you called, I was getting worried. Did you get there okay?"

"Yup. Got here fine."

"And…how's everything?"

"Going okay. Met Jack's ma, she's real nice. Today going up to…"

"Good, good. That's good." Ennis blinked. He could swear she hadn't heard a word he'd said. "Well…it's good you're out there. I'm sure Jack's glad to see you."

"Yeah, he's glad." Ennis cleared his throat. "Lizzie, is everything okay?"

"Okay? Sure! Fine, no problem! Everything's under control."

"Ya sound kinda squirrely."

"Oh, I'm just…you know."

_No, I don't, that's why I asked._ "Well…you sure? No unwelcome visits?"

"No, no. All's quiet. Nothing going on here. Situation normal."

Now Ennis _knew_ something was up. "Lizzie, you are a piss-poor liar. What the hell's goin on? Don't make me call Walter and have him tell me." Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed now, watching Ennis with anxious eyes.

He heard Liz take a breath. When she spoke again, she sounded a lot more composed. "Ennis, nothing's happening. I promise. There's been no further mischief, no postcards, no attacks, not so much as a bad word on the street. Seriously. I've just got a million things on my mind here with both you and Jack gone. But don't come back on my account!" she hastened to add. "I've got it under control. You stay with Jack as long as you can. I've got Lars and Rod and the other boys to help me, and Marianne's coming back to town this afternoon, so you relax and do what you need to do to help Jack."

Ennis considered. Liz sounded like her normal self just then. "Yer sure, then?"

"Absolutely. Don't you worry about us, we're fine and the ranch is _fine._" She took another breath. "You were saying, about Jack's dad?"

"That's the big problem, yeah. We're goin up there today, hopin we can gang up on him, I guess."

"It's been nice being back with Jack, I bet," she said, the smile audible in her voice.

"Yeah, real nice," Ennis said, thinking about the magnitude of that understatement. "You talked ta Junior?"

"Yesterday. She's fine, but she wants to come home."

"She's stayin up at school until we're sure everything's safe."

"I totally agree, Ennis. That's just what I told her."

"Good." He cleared his throat. "Well I guess that's all. We gotta get a move on."

"Okay. Oh, and Ennis?"

"Yeah?"

"I miss you. Both of you."

Ennis smiled. "Well, we miss you too, city gal. Here's hopin we're all back home soon."

"Amen to that."

He grinned at hearing this Vermontism coming out of Lizzie's city-gal mouth but didn't remark on it. "Okay, you take care. Ya see Junior give her a hug from me n one from Jack, and tell her that her ma says hello and sends her love."

"I sure will. Bye, Ennis."

"Bye."

Jack leaned forward. "What was that all about?"

"At first sounded like she wasn't hardly listenin ta me, like she was distracted, but then later seemed fine. Said everything's okay, no more trouble."

"But?"

"I dunno. I think somethin's going on," Ennis said, frowning.

"Well, we'll hafta trust Lizzie and the boys ta deal with it, whatever it is, cause ain't nothin we can do from way the hell out here."

"I know, I jus…don't like it."

* * *

Rod was up in her face the minute she put the phone down. "What'd he say? Did he believe you?"

"I think so. I just didn't know what to say at first."

"Maybe we ought to tell them."

"No!" Liz exclaimed. "They have enough to deal with, and they can't do anything and it'll only make them worry themselves into ulcers, which they don't need on top of everything else."

"But…"

"Rod, if you think that I can be convinced that I ought to tell my best friends that we are using their beloved ranch, which they built together with their bare hands, as _bait,_ then you're crazy. By the time either of them is back here it'll all be over. And if we told them and one of them decided to come racing back here it'd ruin everything."

He nodded. "You're right, I know you are."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm feeling it too, Rod. Let's keep some optimism here."

"Right. It'll be fine."

"And all this nonsense will be over and we can stop the patrols and we can all get back to our normal lives."

"Well, thank God for that."

* * *

If there was one thing Jack could count on, it was that Ennis would be on time no matter what he had to do to drag Jack along with him, so it was no surprise to him that he ended up eating half his breakfast in the car as Ennis drove them out of Gillette at ten o'clock on the nose. "It ain't like we got a plane to catch," he'd protested, a point of order that had fallen on deaf ears. They'd said ten, so by God they'd leave at ten. Ennis regarded lateness as a character flaw, one which Jack was sadly prone to displaying.

"Fuck," Jack muttered, swiping at a dribble of jam that fell from his toast onto the front of his shirt. He tried to flick away the offending dribble before it could stain the fabric, but it still left a sticky little smudge. "Shit."

"Nice goin there. Need a bib?"

"Shut the fuck up. Last thing I need is ta try n have this Big Ass Conversation with my fuckin father with a spot a jelly on my damned chest like some kid cain't keep his food in his mouth, which is exactly what he'll say right before he calls me a pissant, mark my words." He licked his finger and rubbed at it; it seemed to dissipate, but it'd be hard to tell until it dried. He popped the last bite of toast into his mouth and brushed crumbs off his fingers. "If I'd a been allowed ta eat my toast _at the table_, wouldn't a happened, but nooooo, gotta get on the fuckin road even though it don't matter when we leave!"

"It matters. Cain't fritter away a mornin doin nothin but puttin off leavin and that's jus what you'd do if we didn't set no time! Ya set a time, ya stick to it and ya get the fucker over with. Well begun's half done, like my ma used ta say."

"My ma says haste makes waste. And spots on shirts."

"Well, why'd you fuckin want me along if you were just gonna bitch at me the whole time?" Ennis was getting pissed, Jack could hear it in his voice.

"I ain't asked ya ta come, ya know!" Jack blinked as Ennis's face hardened, but not before he saw the expression of hurt cross it. "Fuck, Ennis…I'm sorry. Ya know I'm real glad yer here."

Ennis sighed. "S'alright."

"I'm jus so damned nervous about facin him again, I'm pickin fights with you." He reached across the seat and took Ennis's hand. "Wish I knew what I was gonna say."

"Well, we got two hours ta kill. Let's think on that."

"What ya think I been doin for the last ten days? Pickin lint outta my asshole?"

Ennis put his hand back on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, grinding his teeth. "Yer getting on my fuckin nerves, Jack. I know yer edgy, but calm the fuck down."

Jack let his head fall back against the passenger headrest. "Christ, Ennis, I dunno. I been thinkin on nothin but that."

"And? What'd ya figger out?"

"Well…my feelin is that he might consider movin, fer Ma's sake, but he cain't see his way past getting rid a the ranch, or bein 'put out ta pasture' as he calls it."

"So ta get him offa that land, we gotta find a way ta let him keep it while not bein there, and find somethin useful fer him ta do."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, jus like that! Then mebbe we can go out n find Bigfoot! And there'll be a rainbow with a pot a gold at the end, solve all our problems!"

"I don't see you comin up with any brilliant ideas! I ain't used ta bein the one pushin. Usually yer the one tellin me ta be optimistic."

"It's my dad. Not much reason fer optimism."

Ennis was quiet for a long time. Jack stared out the window, watching Gillette disappear (which didn't take long) and give way to the vast expanses of emptiness that made up the Wyoming landscape. "Well…" Ennis finally began, then trailed off.

Jack turned and looked at him. "What?"

"What if we bought it?" Ennis said, glancing at him.

"I ain't gonna buy a ranch that I'm set ta inherit, Ennis."

"Okay, so we run it."

"We cain't run another ranch thousands a miles from home! We'd hafta hire an on-site foreman, n hands, n a caretaker fer the house, n stock it…"

"We could just _maintain_ it, maybe."

"Ennis," Jack said, rubbing his eyes with one hand, "we cain't afford ta pay the fuckin property taxes n upkeep on a ranch that ain't bringin in no income."

"Well, parden me fer bein so fuckin _stupid,_" Ennis snapped. "I'm jus tryin ta help and you ain't makin it easy!"

"It cain't jus sit there n swallow up money."

"If he cain't stay on it, and it cain't jus sit there, then either it's gotta be sold or someone else gotta run it," Ennis said, his words clipped. "Unless ya got some kinda miracle solution."

Jack propped his hand on his chin. "Only thing I can come up with is ta rent use a the land. Then when the old man dies, we can sell it or use it ourselves we see fit."

"All right, then. What about him?"

"Fuck, I got no idea." And then, just as the words left his mouth, Jack had an idea.

* * *

They pulled into Weston and found a pay phone in a general store. Jack bought quarters from the surly clerk and stood in the small booth plugging them in while Ennis leaned against the wall at his side, listening in. "Lizzie? It's Jack. Yeah, I…she's…no, I…shut up a minute, willya? I need ya ta do somethin fer me. Call Fred. His brother works fer Fish & Game over at Lake Champlain. I need ta talk ta him, can ya get me his number? Yeah. Call me back." Jack gave her the pay phone number and hung up.

"Odds aren't so good that this guy'll be able ta help," Ennis said.

"Cain't hurt ta try." They stood there waiting, and they both jumped when the phone rang. "Lizzie? Yeah. He…yeah? Hey, that's great. Okay, gimme the number." Jack wrote a phone number on his hand as she read it off to him. "Thanks, swee'pea." He hung up. "Lizzie talked ta Fred. He said he'd call his brother and tell him t'expect my call real soon."

They stood there looking at each other. "How long we s'posed ta wait?" Ennis said.

"Fuck if I know."

Ennis was watching the clerk, who was eyeing them suspiciously. He knew that look. It was the "goddamned faggots" look, a look that Ennis seemed to see everywhere, even where it was probably not present. He and Jack could have been hunting friends, or the fishing buddies they'd so long pretended to be, or brothers, or business associates, or any number of things other than what they were, but the truth always felt so _obvious._ Jack could tease him about it, but at times Ennis really did feel as though he had a red letter Q on his forehead. It felt worse today, having acknowledged that the Q belonged there. He didn't think he was standing there in a particularly gay way, but how did he know? _Gay. That's me. I'm gay._ The thought kept occurring at odd moments, although it still felt like an abstraction, like an identity he was trying on.

They stood around for a good ten minutes, until finally Jack gave a shrug and picked up the phone again. "Here goes," he said, dialing. "Mr. Trimble? Yeah, this is Jack Twist, did yer brother…oh, he did, great. He has? Well, it's all true." Jack laughed. "Damn, does he tell that story to everybody in the world? Right, sure. Fred's a character. Anyhow, Mr. Trimble…I got somethin I need ta ask ya. Fish and Game is part a the Department a the Interior, right? You know anyone in the Bureau a Land Management? Here in Wyoming, yeah." Jack met Ennis's eyes. "That so?" He motioned frantically for paper to write on. Ennis looked around, then grabbed a newspaper and tore off the margin. "Yeah. Listen, I got a father's about ta retire, knows jus about everythin about ranchin n horses, he wants ta be useful still, any chance that…they do? Oh, he surely is. So you think…oh, you bet. I'll give him a call." Jack was scribbling madly on the strip of newspaper. "Can I tell him ya sent me? Might help. I'm much obliged, Mr. Trimble. Ya ever visit Fred? You come on by our place and we'll play some poker and knock back a few, ya hear? All right, you take care." He hung up and looked up at Ennis, grinning. "Well."

"I don't know how you do that," Ennis grumbled.

"Do what?"

"Jus…chatter ta folks ya don't even know like they're yer best friend."

"Ya learn it when yer a salesman, Ennis. But listen, Fred's brother knows a guy in Land Management in the Worland office. He says that the Bureau does hire local men, that know the land and how it runs, and that maybe Dad could be an inspector, or a consultant, or somethin. Nobody wants ta come work out in the middle a nowhere, Wyoming, so they always hurtin fer folks, might not mind an older guy with lotsa experience who ain't likely ta get lured away ta Denver or run off n get married like the young guys they hire. They got a wild-horse division, too, he could do that. All kinds a stuff. And they got an office in Buffalo, that's only an hour from Gillette!" Jack was getting that manic light in his eyes that he got when he thought he was really on to something. "Goddamn, Ennis, this could really be the answer! If there's anything my dad would like better'n runnin his own place, it'd be tellin other folks how ta run theirs!" He picked up the phone again, and Ennis went for another roll of quarters.

* * *

They pulled up to the ranch just before one o'clock. John's beat-up truck was in the driveway. "He's probably back here for lunch," Jack said. "The ranch ain't really bein a ranch right now, but he's still out there checkin up on stuff, you can bet." Neither of them were really making a move to get out of the car. Jack turned in his seat and faced Ennis. "Listen, I been thinkin…some a what we gotta say might be better comin from you."

Ennis sighed. _First Alma, now Jack. When did I sign up ta be Ambassador ta John fuckin Twist?_ he thought…but then, right on the heels of that thought, another: _Well, when ya put on his son's ring, that's when._ "I don't know, Jack."

"Look. He ain't never gonna take no rational argument from me, no matter how right I am. We at the point now where he'd argue with me if I said the sun rose in the east. I'm sayin he might listen ya you."

"Why? I'm just his son's faggot boyfriend!"

Jack smiled. "First off, you ain't my damned boyfriend. Second, he may call ya a faggot, but he ain't lookin at you and seein some cryin kid he done pissed on." He blinked at the memory, the bravado leaving his voice. Ennis reached over and patted his arm.

"I hate the fucker fer what he done ta you, darlin," he said.

"Don't matter now. All that matters is what's best fer Ma. And no matter what Dad said ta you, I know that…well, ya kinda impressed him."

"Don't see how."

"Ain't no surprise ta me, or Lizzie, or Alma neither. Yer pretty intimidatin, Ennis."

"Hell you say."

"You don't think so cause yer inside yerself. You ain't ta me just cause…well, it's hard ta be intimidated by a guy who's sucked yer cock." Ennis rolled his eyes. "But I sure was when we first met, and lotsa folks that call ya friend now were, too. It's jus the way ya stand n talk n look. It's like yer back's made a granite, and it ain't bendin fer nobody. Queer or not, I think my dad saw that, too. Yer the kinda guy he'd be inclined ta respect. So jus be yer intimidatin self, n lay it all out wha hasta be done, n maybe I can jump in with some details, n between us we can make him see some sense."

Ennis sighed. "Well, I don't know what the fuck y'all are seein, but if ya think it'll help, I'll do my best." He opened the car door. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

They trudged to the house, Jack carrying the bag that they were sharing. John must have seen them coming, because he opened the door as they approached. Ennis, in front, nodded curtly to him. "John," he said, deliberately using the man's first name even though he hadn't been bidden to do so.

"Del Mar," Twist replied, tight n low. He looked past him to Jack. "Thought I told ya I didn't want ta see ya round here."

"Yer gonna hafta," Ennis said. "Man's yer fuckin son and we got business ta discuss. We ain't gonna stay no longer'n we need to."

"Dad, I've got some information for ya that I think you'll be interested in," Jack said. He was using his Businessman Voice, as Ennis thought of the no-nonsense tone Jack put on when dealing with vendors or clients, especially ones that were troublesome. "And I hope you'll be wanting ta hear about Ma."

Twist pondered this, his lips curling, and then gave a brief nod. He stood aside and let them enter. "You'll want coffee," he grumbled, and headed off for the kitchen. Jack shot Ennis a raised-eyebrow glance.

"C'mon, Ennis. Show ya the upstairs." Ennis followed him up the stairs. "My folks' room there, my old bedroom there," he said, nodding his head. Ennis remembered Grace's urging for him to look around Jack's room. _Later,_ he thought. "Here's where I stayed last I was here," he said, leading Ennis into the guest room.

"Think we oughta share?" Ennis said, keeping his voice low. "Things're touchy enough without provokin him."

"We're fuckin sharin. I ain't backin down. Me showin my belly's gonna do more harm than us sharin a bed, make him think he's got my neck under his boot again."

Ennis nodded, dubious. Jack stepped close and tugged on his coat. "Whatcha want, huh?" he said, smirking, having a pretty good idea what Jack wanted.

"Gimme a kiss fer luck."

Ennis kissed him, pulling him close and then into a tight embrace. "Gonna be okay, rodeo," he said into his ear.

"Gotta be," Jack said.

They separated after one last squeeze and headed downstairs. They hung their coats and hats in the entryway and poured their own coffee. John was at the kitchen table, looking dour and not the slightest bit approachable. They sat down, Ennis across from him and Jack between them. "How's yer ma doin?" John asked.

"She's doin real well. The medication they got her on's really helpin them tremors. She's meetin some folks at the place she's living, and Ennis's ex-wife's been real nice ta her."

That got his attention. "Yer ex-wife?"

Ennis nodded. "Alma. She n Grace gotten pretty friendly."

John shook his head. "Cain't believe no woman'd wanna have nothin ta do with either a you, specially one what ya left ta…take up with a man."

"Ain't about us," Ennis said. "Alma's got a good heart, she's takin a likin ta Grace, and I can see why. She's a real sweet lady."

"But…she's feelin better?" John asked. Ennis saw concern for his wife's well-being in the man's eyes, and that was a little encouraging.

"Much better, yeah," Jack said. He cleared his throat and cut his eyes towards Ennis. _That's my cue, I guess._

"John, me n Jack havin some thoughts about how this can all work out best fer Grace."

"You got no right tellin me how ta work things out, you ain't family and got no place speaking about it. I ain't leavin this ranch."

"Well, she cain't come back. If you ain't leavin and she ain't comin back, I guess that means yer okay with her living down there all by herself, in a place paid for by me n Jack, n being apart from her all the time, then." John stared at the table. "No, you cain't be okay with that. You ain't gonna stand for no one else payin yer wife's way. No man should stand fer that."

"I gotta keep this ranch if I wanna support her!"

Jack jumped in. "That ain't so, Dad. I been talkin to a fella works for BLM."

John snorted. "Them Land Management bastards."

"Yeah, and you could be one a them bastards. You'd fit right in, been a bastard all yer life, ain'tcha?"

"What you talkin about?" John said, his eyes narrowing.

"Listen, they got real use fer someone knows as much as you do about these lands. Hell, they cain't teach in no college what you done learned over fifty years a workin the land."

"Them fuckers don't know their assholes from their elbows."

"Then maybe you oughta go help em with that," Jack said.

"No Bureau's gonna hire no guy my age!" John exclaimed, but Ennis was encouraged. The fact that he was arguing specifics meant that he wasn't discounting the entire idea.

"I asked this fella and he said he didn't see why they wouldn't. Dad, you could do inspections, or work with the guys that deal with the wild horses. They got guys who work on mappin out trails, and drawin up boundaries, and settin grazin guidelines. You been doin that shit yer whole life! Fella said it's hard ta get folks ta come work out here, but you lived here yer whole life and got no idea a ever leavin."

John's lips were curling as he pondered Jack's words. He sipped his coffee, his sour expression never changing, but Ennis sensed that he was actually considering it.

Jack went in for the kill. "Think on it, Dad. You'd have a regular wage, and health insurance fer Ma. Fella I spoke with says they got housing stipends, too, ta encourage folks ta work out here in the middle a fuckin nowhere. You and Ma could get a real nice little house, maybe with some acreage, keep yer horses."

John abruptly shook his head. "I cain't sell this place. Been in my family too goddamned long."

"I don't wanna sell it neither, Dad. We don't hafta. You already renting use a the land ta trainers. What if we rent the whole ranch ta someone jus startin out? They can use the acreage ta build their herd, they pay us a monthly fee, we pay the taxes, they pay their own overhead n bring their own stock."

"Someone else on my land," John groused.

"Ain't no getting round that," Ennis said. "If you ain't here, cain't sit empty. Gotta be of use if we gonna keep it in the family."

"You ain't fuckin family," John growled.

Ennis took a deep breath. "But someday the land be Jack's. We ain't gonna sell it."

"Well…where'd I be workin, fer the Bureau?" John asked.

Jack shot Ennis a guardedly victorious look. "Fella I spoke to works in Worland, but there's an office in Buffalo. That's jus an hour from Gillette, Dad. You n Ma could get a house there, or in Buffalo, and she'd still be close ta her doctors and medical help if she needed it. Same fer you."

John harrumphed, hawked and spit into his handkerchief. "Buffalo, huh?"

"Yeah. Bit bigger'n Gillette, bout three hours from here."

"I know where the fuck it is!" he snapped. "Don't need no geography lesson from you, cain't even keep yer food in yer mouth. What's that on yer shirt, jelly? Fuckin pissant, probably oughta use a damned bib."

Jack shot an Ennis a tight-lipped _SEE?_ kind of look, but didn't react otherwise. "Whaddya think, Dad?"

John shifted in his chair, making indistinct grumbling noises, turning his coffee cup around on the table. "Hrmm…well…I'd hafta talk ta this fella, ain't got no name."

"His name's Rob Benderman, and he wants ta talk ta you, actually. Said he could come ta Buffalo whenever. I told him I'd see if ya wanted ta come."

John stood up. "Lemme think on it. Gotta get out ta the stable." He took his mug into the kitchen, put on his coat and was out the door.

Jack abruptly stood up, leaned across the table and seized Ennis's face in his hands, then planted a big, smacking kiss right on his mouth. "You fuckin beauty," he said.

"I ain't done nothin."

"Ya did jus what I thought you'd do. Ya made it sound like he hadta do what we was suggestin as a point a manly honor. Goddamn, never thought it'd work. Played the old bastard like a fuckin violin."

"You did good, too."

"I jus knew that he'd never take no charity job, so I hadta make it seem like he'd be doin _them_ a favor."

"It ain't a charity job though, is it?"

"Hell, no. Benderman said my dad could be real useful, no bullshit." Jack grabbed their coats. "C'mon, handsome. Lemme show you around the family spread." Ennis put on his hat and Jack grabbed him again, sliding his hand around his neck and his tongue between Ennis's lips for a more serious kiss. "And you _are_ family, don't you pay no mind ta what he says, you are more my family than he is," Jack said. "When he goes, this place won't be mine, it'll be fuckin _ours._"

* * *

Ennis climbed into bed, glad he'd brought bottoms _and_ a t-shirt to guard against the seeping cold of the house. Having spent the evening here, he could stomach even less the idea of Grace returning here with her health as fragile as it was. Jack was already in bed, and despite Jack's insistence, Ennis felt strange joining him knowing that John was down the hall. He'd gone to bed at nine, as Jack said he always did, and Ennis had heard him snoring when he'd gone to the bathroom, but still. It didn't feel right.

No sooner was he between the sheets than Jack was rolling against him, kissing his neck, snaking his hand down Ennis's stomach. "Jack…don't think we should."

"I want to," Jack said, suckling at Ennis's earlobe. "C'mon."

"Ain't right. Yer dad's house, he right down the hall…"

"He's dead ta the world. I wanna." He drew back and met Ennis's eyes. "I ain't lettin him control my life no more, Ennis." He kissed Ennis's lips, drawing him out, pulling his face close with one hand cupping Ennis's head. "C'mon, babe," Jack whispered against his mouth. "I want ya so bad."

Ennis, being no more than flesh and blood, went along as Jack undressed them both, acknowledging their surroundings by keeping quiet. He tried to forget where they were and concentrate on Jack, but it was damned hard. The bed squeaked, and every time he heard that raw, piercing _screeeeeek_ he stuttered a little. Jack was resolutely ignoring it, proceeding with grim determination. Ennis shut his eyes while Jack sucked on his nipples and stroked his cock. _Jus pretend we're at home in our bed. Pretend we're back at the hotel. Pretend his fuckin father ain't less'n fifty feet away, maybe lyin awake in bed listening ta this goddamned bed squeakin and knowin what we're doin…_

Jack flipped him over and drew him up to his knees, which he'd half-expected. Jack had said that he wanted him, but Ennis couldn't say he was feeling particularly loved and wanted by the way Jack was going at him, like he was on a mission to emancipate himself from his father by way of Ennis's ass. He tried to relax and get into the moment, such as it was, but he still grimaced as Jack entered him. _Thank God he brought the fuckin lube,_ Ennis thought distractedly as Jack pounded him, gripping his hips tightly while Ennis fisted his hands in the pillow, too distracted to let himself go enough to feel the pleasure and just waiting for him to be done, already.

Jack came with a half-swallowed grunt and pulled out, flopping onto his back with a frustrated sigh. Ennis turned on his side and faced him. "Shit, I'm sorry," Jack muttered. "That was fuckin awful."

"More like…awful fuckin."

Jack looked at him, shamefaced. "Don't know what that was."

Ennis reached out and stroked Jack's chest, feeling the tension in the muscles there. "It's okay," he said. "Cain't be good all the time. And it ain't like this is the best place."

"That's fer fuckin sure." Jack glanced at him. "C'mere, lemme at least take care a you," he said, scooting closer and reaching for Ennis's cock, which wasn't even hard anymore.

Ennis pushed his hand away. "Nah, I'm okay. I jus wanna get some sleep."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, probly a good idea." He sighed and kissed Ennis again. "I love you."

"I love ya too, darlin." Jack rolled onto his side, tucked the covers around himself and was asleep within a few minutes. Ennis quietly drew his nightclothes back on and lay on his back, arms behind his head, waiting for sleep to come for him as well, but as the minutes ticked by it did not come.

The house felt like a shell around them, their bed a tiny center of warmth in its cold hollowness. He could not imagine Jack growing up here, returning here after their meetings time and again. How had this place produced Jack, who was so full of life, when the house was so dead? How had Grace, who was so kind and warm, existed here and left no imprint of the love she showed her son? It was as if the fallow fields of John's heart were so strong that not even the sunlight from Grace and Jack could induce anything to grow, the house and the lands were so hardened and stiff that their passings left no trace, no afterimage of life.

Ennis laid awake for half an hour. Jack was deep asleep now, his breathing slow and quietly raspy. He turned and looked at the back of his head, wondering if Steve McQueen was visiting tonight. At this rate, Ennis wouldn't be dreaming of anybody, let alone Paul Newman.

He rose from the bed and tiptoed out into the hallway, past John's room (the snoring still going on, to his relief) to Jack's. He'd barely gotten a look inside during Jack's perfunctory tour. He turned on the small lamp on the table and looked around at the narrow bed covered with a crazy quilt, the notched desk and chair, the window that showed only the impenetrable rural darkness but which he knew looked out over the driveway.

He went into the closet, smiling as his hands touched that fuzzy green coat, the one Jack had worn on Brokeback. He bent and rubbed his cheek against its woolly collar, remembering how it had felt against his neck when they embraced, remembering Jack sleeping on his feet by the fire, rockin him in his arms, holding onto this coat and to Jack, knowing he'd have to let go and wishing he didn't have to. He'd dreaded that moment when they'd have to say goodbye, in no small part because he'd been terrified he wouldn't have the strength to do what he'd thought he had to do and walk away without a look back. And then to have it happen a month early, when he wasn't prepared. _It's not enough,_ his mind had shrieked as he and Jack had talked about meaningless things like pay and tents and packing up camp. _Not enough time with him. Gimme more, just that month, cause that's all I'm ever gonna have, if ya can't gimme the month then gimme a week, or a day, or jus one more minute with him, please jus one more minute._ And what scant time they'd had, he'd had to ruin with a punch, an explosion of something so twisted it up it had no other way out, the anger coming strong to him on that hillside, anger at the world and at Jack, why'd he have to be himself, why'd he have to be like he was and make Ennis that way, too?

He crouched and picked up Jack's old boots, then another pair less worn, a little fancier. The rear wall of the closet was just bead-board, like Ennis's own closet had been as a boy. He wondered if Jack had carved his initials in the wall, like he had. He cast his eyes over the unblemished boards. _Probly didn't dare deface any a the old man's property lest he get whupped,_ Ennis thought.

He turned to leave, but paused. There was a little cubby behind the closet rod, and something was hanging back there. He reached out to withdraw it, frowning. _What the hell's this, now?_

* * *

Jack woke up with a start, the bed at his back cold. He turned over, but Ennis was not in bed. _Oh Christ, he didn't freak out and go sleep on the couch, did he? Maybe he went ta sleep in my room or somethin._ He sat up and pulled his pajama bottoms and t-shirt back on, got up and padded down the hall.

Sure enough, the door to his bedroom was standing open and there was a light on. He came to the doorway, an admonishment on his lips that died the moment he saw Ennis.

He was sitting on the bed, staring down at his lap…and he had the shirts. He was holding the damned shirts. Jack's stomach flopped clean over. _Oh my God, he found em. Musta been pokin around in the closet and found em._

Jack hadn't really spared a thought for the shirts since he'd been here. He'd had a lot on his mind. In the past, he'd had vague ideas of getting them back, giving them to Ennis, maybe making an anniversary present out of them. Maybe taking them back to the ranch, keeping them close. But he hadn't done it, even with all the opportunities he'd had. He liked the idea that they were here, in this time capsule of his former self, the self that had never felt free or worthy, hanging there as a reminder of the one who had first made him feel free, the one who thought he _was_ worthy. Here in his father's house, a house that had seen Jack scorned and abused and beaten down, was proof that Jack had someone he loved who loved him back, and it was another man, and there was nothing John could do about it. He didn't know about those shirts, so there they stayed, a silent monument to what he hadn't been able to beat out of his son.

Ennis looked up and met his eyes, his face full of naked astonishment. He looked down at the shirts and lifted their layered sleeves, fingering the bloodstains, then back up at Jack, a silent question in his gaze. _Since then? Since then?_

Jack came forward, nodding gently. Ennis stood up and met him halfway, holding the shirts between their bodies like he wasn't quite sure what to do with them. Jack held his eyes for a few moments, then gently reached out and took the shirts from his hands. He held them up and looked at them, brushed some dust off their shoulders.

Jack lifted the shirts and unbuttoned his denim one, feeling Ennis watching him the whole time. He drew Ennis's shirt out from inside it, fancying he could hear the creak and crackle as they were prised apart for the first time in so many years. He pressed his face to its collar, smelling nothing but old closet after all this time, then held it out to him.

Ennis looked down at the shirt he'd thought lost twenty years before and pushed Jack's hand aside. He reached out instead for the other shirt, gently pulling it from Jack's hand and drawing it close. Jack sighed and held Ennis's shirt to his chest, wondering if it felt lonesome after so long in tandem.

He looked into Ennis's eyes for a long, still moment in that dim little room, holding the only piece of him he'd had for years, now having all of him, an embarrassment of riches but still this sad, bloodstained shirt standing in suspended time for something lost on a hilltop with a punch, and on a street with a few words unsaid. He wondered if the shirts were proud, somehow, to see those mistakes undone. He wondered if they were glad that they were no longer monuments to hope, but to reality.

Ennis dropped his eyes and held up Jack's shirt again, and then he lifted it over his shoulders and put his arms through the sleeves, shrugging the shirt onto his shoulders. Jack stared as Ennis's hand emerged from the denim sleeve stained with his blood, watched as he buttoned it up, the shirt having metamorphosed in Jack's mind to something so intangible that he'd almost forgotten it could be worn. Ennis took his own shirt from Jack's hands and unbuttoned it, then stepped close and flicked it over Jack's back. Jack put his arms through and Ennis drew the shirt around him, buttoning it up. Jack watched his face as he did this most mundane of tasks, watched as Ennis's eyes filled with tears, his lips pressing tight as he smoothed the plaid over Jack's shoulders, his head starting to shake slowly back and forth, and then he pulled Jack into his arms, wrapping him up so tightly Jack could barely free his own arms to hug him back.

The denim of his shirt felt so familiar, stretched now over Ennis's back and being warmed with his body heat, the shirts that had embraced so long in effigy doing so now animated by their breath and blood. Ennis was trembling; Jack stroked his hands firmly up and down his back, calming him as he had once done in a firelit tent.

Ennis drew back just enough to meet Jack's eyes; tears had cut a pair of tracks down his face. He lifted one hand and rubbed Jack's cheek…where he'd struck him, Jack realized, on that day, that awful day that had split them, from each other, from themselves. Ennis kissed the spot where he'd once left a purple bruise that had wrung tears from Jack for days until it had faded, then hugged him again. "Shoulda done this," Ennis whispered into his ear, rocking him, arms so tight around him it was hard to breathe. "Shoulda done this."


	27. Chapter 27

Ennis had managed to rise and dress without waking Jack, and then make it downstairs and out to the stables without running into John, so it was with relief that he picked up a curry brush and went to work on one of John's horses with his solitude unspoiled and the flow of his thoughts uninterrupted. This morning, that flow was a raging torrent for sure.

He felt different this morning. How, he was having trouble wrapping his head around, even inside himself. He and Jack hadn't talked about it the night before. They'd stood there in his old room for Ennis didn't know how long, finally shuffling back to the bed they were sharing, their progress made awkward by their inability to let go of each other. They'd clambered back into bed and just laid there. They hadn't talked or had sex or even kissed, really. They'd just held each other, wearing those shirts (_the shirts, oh Jesus god, the shirts…_), until they'd dropped off to sleep.

He stood there and damned near brushed the hide right off the poor horse and thought about it, and it still didn't come clear to him until Jack walked into the stable. Ennis smiled to himself. Jack was the only person who was actually _welcomed_ into the stubborn del Mar solitude, and seeing him standing there in the doorway, looking around (probably looking for Ennis himself), Ennis was able to see the clear features of the new face he sensed on himself. It looked like permanence. Even after seven years together, years of building a home and a business, waking and sleeping next to each other, rings given and accepted…until this trip Ennis had still been thinking of his relationship with Jack as something transitory and fragile. Something that might end at any time, something that could be taken from him with a tire iron or harsh enough words, even something that he could flee if he had to, if it became too difficult.

Now, the sight of Jack was like looking on an oak tree, rising immovable from the earth, _his_ earth, and Jack was the thing that had grown there the longest, whose roots were buried in him the deepest, the tendrils extending all the way into his toes and fingers and wrapped around his heart. Even if something came along and chopped that tree down, those roots would remain in him. Jack wasn't transitory. He was the only thing that wasn't. The ranch might be burned to the ground by bigots, Junior might marry and move away, Francine might never speak to him again, they might lose all their friends and their livelihood and be driven out to another place where they'd be strangers again, but there would be Jack, there had always been Jack even if Ennis hadn't had the sense of it, there had been shirts hanging in a closet and he had been loved before he'd known it, and through the years when he'd fought it. Tire irons, or a thousand other things that he couldn't bear to imagine, might take him away, but they could never take _this_ away, nothing ever could. That tree had grown even when denied water and sun, and it was strong. It was permanent.

Jack was starting to leave; he probably couldn't see Ennis in the shadows behind this horse. "Jack," he said. "I'm back here."

"Oh! Was lookin fer you," Jack said, smiling and joining him in the horse's stall. "Whatcha doin out here?"

"Jus thinkin. C'mere," he said, reaching out and pulling Jack close. "Missed my mornin kiss."

Jack grinned, leaned in and kissed him, slow and teasing. "Will that do ya, cowboy?"

"Fer now, sure." He let him go and went back to the horse. Jack leaned against the stable wall and watched him.

"Yer feelin it too, ain'tcha?" Jack asked. "Somethin's changed."

Ennis thought about playing dumb, but that seemed pointless all of a sudden. He nodded. "Yeah."

"I jus know that I'd been scared stiff a you goin back ta Vermont without me, and now I ain't so much. It's like…even if yer there and I'm here…it's okay."

Ennis put down the curry comb and they walked out to the aisle, taking a seat on one of the benches. "You'd think after seven years we'd be done figurin stuff out," he said.

Jack chuckled. "I don't think anyone's ever _done_ figurin stuff out, bud." He met Ennis's eyes. "What did ya figure out?"

"Well…" _Goddammit, Jack, yer gonna make me try n say stuff right?_ "It's like…yer a tree, or somethin."

Jack frowned. "A…tree?"

"Right. There's these roots, see…and…well, stumps are real hard ta yank, ya know ya gotta get a chainfall and hook 'em up to a truck, like that time we was over at Rory's, and remember how he got the truck stuck in the mud up ta the axels?" Jack's expression of puzzlement was deepening. "But anyways…ya know trees…well, it's like…there weren't no water or nothin…and, uh…"

Now Jack was laughing, and holding his hand. "Aw, Ennis. Bless yer heart. It ain't jus an excuse fer not talking, is it? You really are bad at this."

Ennis stared at the ground, shrinking a little. "Real bad."

"How is it you can talk ta my father right so's he sees some sense, but ya get all tongue-tied when it's jus me, who ya know ain't gonna judge ya none?"

"Get nervous about sayin stuff right."

"Ain't no right or wrong. Ya don't gotta get all poetic with trees n roots and I don't know how Rory got inta this. Jus…say what ya feel. You done that in the past, on occasion, and said stuff ta me real nice."

Ennis nodded, took a deep breath, and started again…and this time, the words came. "It's jus that lookin at them shirts was kinda like lookin back in time, ya know? From when ya put em there, when I didn't even know…damn, didn't know nothin at all. Didn't ever think it was gonna be you n me in the end, thought I'd lost ya forever, thought it'd jus be a summer a memories I'd hafta haul out when I hadta get it up fer that life I thought I hadta live instead. Always thinkin, even real recent, that this thing we got could go away, or get taken, or fall apart, or who knows what else. Truth is…" He made himself look Jack in the eye. "Truth is that you the only thing ever stuck. Everything else could go ta hell and did, folks go away, things get fucked up, but always was you, and always was what I kept secret inside jus like you kept them shirts. Had my own shirts, ya know. Just they was in here, instead a in some closet," he said, pointing at his own chest.

"I know ya did," Jack said. "And I know what yer sayin. Ennis, ya spent the last few days surprisin me…showin up here, sayin yer queer, meetin my ma, talkin ta my dad. I spent the last seven years waiting in the back a my head fer you ta say ya had enough, that ya couldn't take it no more, or maybe you were jus sick a me, that you never were queer and were sick a pretendin ta like it. Even after ya put that ring on I still kinda was waitin fer it."

"You sayin you ain't waitin no more?"

Jack shook his head, his eyes on Ennis's face. "Only thing I'm waiting fer now is ta spend the rest a my life with you."

Ennis smiled. "Don't believe you gotta wait fer that. Yer doin it right now."

They sat there in silence for a few moments, holding hands. It was cold outside, but the stable was comfortable with the heat of the animals and the wind kept out by the stout board walls. Ennis could sense Jack working up to something, so he just waited.

"When I went down fer Bobby's funeral," Jack finally said, "and I was with Lureen?"

"Yeah?"

"Was a moment…when I thought it'd be easier if I jus stayed with her. Like maybe that'd make it up ta Bobby, if I went back ta her."

Ennis nodded. "Had that same thought about Alma every so often since we moved." He took a deep breath, wondering if he was really about to let this past the boundaries of himself. "I left you once, you know."

Jack looked at him. "When?"

"May a 1979."

This seemed to knock Jack back a bit. "That long after we moved? Really?"

Ennis nodded. "Was when Junior was goin through that hard time, n Alma was at the height a her hatin me, n we had that trouble with Sharkey…felt like everthin I ever decided ta do was wrong, beginnin and endin with you. And though I was happy with ya, the rest of it was makin me so crazy, thought if I jus left it behind it could all go back the way it used ta be. Packed a bag, got in my truck n started drivin. Think now I musta known I couldn't actually do it, I mean hell, I didn't even leave ya no note or nothin. Got about two hours west before I hadta pull over n puke my guts out, jus like in 63, only worse, cause I really knew what I was leavin."

"What made you come back?" Jack asked, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

"I saw what was ahead, clear as if I was watchin a movie. Saw the life I was choosin, holed up in some godforsaken line shack, always broke, Alma hatin me, daughters pityin me and growin up ta get their own families n fergettin me…most of all, bein alone, knowin I'd left you behind like that without no word, maybe yer heart broke like mine was, getting up every day by myself without you. Turned the truck around and came home. Got back before you'd barely knew I'd been gone; you asked what I'd done all day and I said I'd gone ta look at somebody's secondhand equipment fer sale. You remember?"

Jack looked blank, then let out a brief laugh that was half a sob. "No. Fuck, I got no memory a that at all. How can that be that you was havin some kinda crisis bad enough ta leave me and I ain't know about it? I mean…I remember that time bein tough, but I ain't never knew that."

"Good. Didn't want ya ta know. Took pains ta be extra-special normal the few days after that."

Jack waited to make sure Ennis was done, then took a deep breath. "My turn again, huh?" Ennis just waited. "When Bobby was real little…" He hesitated, his throat working. Ennis slid a little closer and put his arm around Jack's back, reaching across to hold his hand. "Times I…lotsa times…I wished we never had him," he said, this last coming out in a hoarse whisper.

Ennis nodded. "Don't lots a parents have them thoughts time ta time? I know I did, when the girls was being specially ornery, sometimes jus wanted some peace."

"You loved n wanted yer girls, Ennis. I never wanted ta have no kids, but I ended up with one and then had these awful feelins like he was holdin me back, keepin us apart, tyin me ta Lureen and fuckin LD and everythin when I jus wanted ta be free…"

"Them're jus tiny thoughts, Jack. Like when ya think ya wanna kill yer boss. You ain't gonna, but ya cain't help but think stuff at times. People think all kinds a things they ain't really mean. It's jus…tiny thoughts. And ya loved Bobby, don't sit there n tell me you didn't cause I know it ain't true."

"Yeah, I loved em, but shit…I was always willin ta leave him n Lureen if you'd said so. You was never willin ta leave yer girls fer me. What kinda father would jus turn away from his son fer his own reasons?"

"Jack, it wasn't the girls holdin me back from ya, it was me. I didn't wanna leave em, that's true. But they was a good reason I could give ya so I didn't hafta tell ya the real reason."

Two fat tears slid down Jack's cheeks. "Yer girls are alive n healthy," he said. "What if…I lost Bobby cause in secret…I wished it?"

Ennis sighed. "Aw, Jack. You did the best you could by him. You was a good father, you ain't never wanted no harm ta come ta him."

Jack nodded, but Ennis could see he wasn't really convinced. Getting him over that would be a lot more than a morning's work, and it was for another time. Anyway, it was his turn. "I ain't never told you…bout how I used ta be with Alma."

Jack frowned. "What ain't ya told me? Ya told me a lot, what else is there?"

"I think maybe I tried ta make her inta you. Know that sounds weird." He sighed, staring out the stable door at the snowy fields. "I useta…do her, ya know. The other way. Like with you." He shut his eyes and let his head fall, sliding away from Jack a little. "Knew she hated it, and I did it anyway. Didn't feel much like you, even that way, but it was closer than the usual way with women. Goddamn, what does that make me? Takin her like that when she didn't like it."

Jack pulled him close again. "She ever say no?" he asked, gently.

"No. Never said a word about it. But after she found out…ya know, about me n you…I know she was all thinkin she'd figured somethin out, like why I wanted it like that." He looked at Jack, hoping that he might see his shame mirrored there, but saw only compassion. "You ever do that with Lureen? Like, as a substitute?"

"Ennis…yer fergettin I ain't never had you like that till we moved in together. How was I s'posed ta make Lureen into a substitute fer you? Ask her ta shove a cucumber up my ass?"

The laughter burst out of Ennis, taking him by surprise. "Jesus Christ, Jack," he said, barely able to get the words out.

Jack grinned. "Sorry, I guess that was kinda crude, wasn't it?"

Ennis was still laughing, and after a moment, Jack joined him. "Holy God…I am gonna have fuckin nightmares," he managed, trying and failing to banish the mental image of a cucumber-wielding Lureen ordering Jack onto all fours. "And forget about eatin cucumbers ever again."

"You don't even like cucumbers," Jack said, wiping at his streaming eyes. "Maybe I shoulda said a hot dog instead. Don't want ya getting an exaggerated idea a yer attributes," he said, elbowing Ennis.

"Oh, yer gonna pay fer that, asshole," Ennis said, tackling him. They both fell to the ground. Ennis couldn't stop grinning. It felt like old times to wrestle with Jack, laughing like they were carefree kids again instead of forty-year-old men, grabbing at him and copping a few feels in the process while Jack did the same to him. He ended up pinning Jack beneath him, holding his wrists to the stable floor, both of them with straw and God knew what else all over them. Jack stopped fighting and just arched his neck, looking up at Ennis with a challenging whatcha-gonna-do-with-me-now expression on his face. "Now, what was ya saying about my attributes?"

"Nothin," Jack said. He got a thigh between Ennis's legs and pressed it up into his crotch, smirking. Ennis hissed in a quick breath as Jack rubbed his leg against Ennis's erection. "Feels mighty fine from here."

Ennis held himself back from humping Jack's leg like some kind of deranged German shepherd. He let go of Jack's wrists and sat up. "Well, if you think I'm gonna give it to ya on this filthy stable floor, yer nuts. We are too old fer them kinda shenanigans."

Jack stood up and extended a hand to pull Ennis off the floor. "Wish I could argue with that, but I cain't." He stepped close and slid his hand between Ennis's legs. "Ain't too old fer a quick handjob up against the wall, though."

The offer was tempting, but Ennis got the feeling that Jack was stalling. "Maybe later. We ain't done here, are we?"

Jack stepped back with a sigh. "No, we ain't."

"I told ya everything now, Jack. You know it all."

He nodded. "Sit down, Ennis." He did, watching as Jack walked back and forth a few times before stopping to speak again. "I got one more."

"Yeah, I know." He was bracing himself. He didn't know what Jack was about to hit him with, but in a way, he did. So many times over their seven-year cohabitation, Ennis had sensed that Jack had something to tell him, something he thought he _had_ to tell him. He'd seen the secret there behind Jack's eyes, so close to the surface, but it had never broken out into the open. Jack always lost his nerve. _He was afraid ta tell me, cause he thought it might drive me off,_ he thought now. _But now he ain't afraid. He felt that shift same as me, he's feelin my roots in his earth too, and he's gonna tell me cause he knows it ain't gonna drive me off._ That was good, but it was also terrifying.

Jack faced him, hands on his hips. "Ennis, I been with other men."

_You stay fuckin calm, asshole. Don't you fuck this up._ He took long, slow breaths until the red haze dissipated from before his eyes. "When?"

"Um…a couple in them years before 67, and probably an average one a year after that, up until 76."

Ennis blinked. "So…none since…you n me?"

Jack frowned. "No."

"Oh." That made it better. A little. "These…men…" He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Christ, Jack. Jus tell me."

"I was fucked up. Over you. At first thinkin I'd never see you again, then thinking them fishin trips was all we was ever gonna have. You know I knew that it was fellas did it fer me, long time since, and I only had little bits n pieces a you ta tide me over, and times it got ta be real bad, cowboy. Real damned bad. Got ta missin you, and missin a man's touch…"

Ennis stood up. "All right, I get the idea. Well…where'd ya find em?"

"Bars, mostly. I, uh…went ta Mexico once."

"Bars? Jesus God, Jack! You coulda been beat or killed! Ya know the fuckin queerbashers stake them places out, sometimes goin in and luring fellas out ta beat their brains in!"

"I know that! I was careful! See? I ain't bashed and I still got my brains in my head!"

"That ain't the fuckin point! God…when I think a some other man's hands on ya…givin ta some other guy what was…what we…" He turned away.

"I ain't _never_ given ta no one else what we got, Ennis!" Jack exclaimed. "Not ta Lureen, and sure as hell not ta some guy I only saw once! None a them was you, none a them ever made me ferget you, only made me miss ya more, in fact." Ennis sensed him come up close behind him. "I ain't like you, and never was. I couldn't make it on those few days a year when I had you. Fer you, it was like you was provin something ta yerself ta go without, provin you wasn't queer, that ya didn't need it, even though I know ya thought about it when we was apart, that you was tempted, too." Ennis said nothing. "I had nothin ta prove except what I felt fer ya, and times I felt that I could never do that, that you'd never understand or accept it, so there was times I just hadta…find somebody. Jus fer one night."

Ennis turned and faced him. "But there ain't never been no one else since we ranched up?"

Jack shook his head. "No. Never." He tilted his head and his eyes narrowed a little. "I thought you'd be madder."

"I'm mad."

"I thought you'd be the swearin-and-throwin-stuff kinda mad, like at Souter."

"He fuckin _shot_ you."

"Still."

Ennis sighed. "I mighta been madder a few years back. Or even a few months back. But after everythin else…I dunno, Jack. You needin it regular ain't no news ta me, and you wasn't getting it from me."

"After what happened with Lureen I didn't know what ta think…and I know you'd feel different that I been with other men, as opposed ta women."

"What, you been with other women too?"

"No, jus Lureen."

"Yeah, it's different. Cain't fuckin think a you with no other man. Like that's my special place with you, the women was just somethin ya hadta do, but if it's another guy, that's what ya wanted ta do and not what ya hadta do." He shrugged, sagging. "I hate thinkin on it, but what'm I gonna do now? Throw some kinda fit, yell n scream? Was a long time ago, and it ain't like I helped by holdin ya at arm's length fer years n years, and you ain't touched no other man since we been fer-real together. It's like I kinda wanna be madder, and I wanna swear n throw things, but I jus ain't got the time or the energy, ya know?" Jack smiled a little at that, nodding. "Ya hurt me real bad when you were with Lureen, but ya know that. We're past that. This…well, makes me mad, but it don't hurt me like that. I don't know what the difference is. Lord knows how I'd feel if I didn't know fer sure n true that I had ya fer myself, hunderd percent."

Jack stepped close again. "Oh, you got that right, darlin." He smiled, a little tentative. "So…you forgive me?"

Ennis put his arms around him as best he could given the bulk of their outdoor coats. "Yeah. But, uh…far as I'm concerned, we can never talk about it again, okay?"

"Okay."

Ennis smiled at Jack, took a deep breath. "We done tellin secrets now?"

"Yeah." Jack sighed and tucked his head down on Ennis's shoulder, holding him close around his waist. "I cain't tell ya how good it is ta get that outta me. Been eatin me up all these years, wonderin if you'd leave me, wonderin how you'd react. Was always there like some kinda poison."

Ennis put his hand on Jack's face and tilted it up. "Yeah, well…who's yer man now?" he said, making his voice rough and low in a way he knew Jack liked.

Jack's smile became a half-curl. "You are, cowboy. Wanna show me?"

Ennis bent and kissed him hard, yanking his hips close by the beltloops. He had some intentions, not all of them polite, but he didn't get very far with them.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

They broke apart, turning towards the disgusted voice in the doorway. _Mighta known,_ Ennis thought, seeing John's face, scrunched into an expression of revulsion. He released Jack and took a step away. "Sorry, Dad," Jack said, turning to face him, his voice admirably even. "Jus havin a moment."

Twist shook his head and stormed past, holding a saddle. He put it in the tack room and came back out. "Cain't you fellas be decent for one fuckin minute?"

"Ain't nothin indecent about havin a kiss with my man, Dad."

"I'd a thought better a you, Del Mar," he spat.

"Then you thought wrong," Ennis mumbled, shuffling. He didn't quite know what to do or say. He wanted to flee, but didn't want to leave Jack out here alone with him. He was kicking himself for letting them get physical in the relative open of the stable. Should have kept it in the bedroom where Twist couldn't accidentally see them.

"Coupla shameless faggots, don't know why I let ya on my land inna first place."

"You thought any about that job, Dad? I oughta call Rob Benderman and set up some time so's the two a you can talk."

Ennis didn't think John would let himself be dragged off the subject at hand, but surprisingly, he did. "Might work out," Twist said, staring at the ground and scraping at a spot of dirt with his shoe. Maybe he was grateful to stop talking about "faggot" stuff.

Jack nodded. "Good. I'm gonna go call him up right now." He trudged out of the stable without a backwards glance. Twist just stood there.

"What did ya mean by that?" Ennis asked.

"By what?"

"That you'd expected better a me."

John flapped a hand like it couldn't possibly matter now. "Jus didn't expect ta see ya doin queer shit."

"Why not?" Ennis shut his eyes and took yet another step off into the chasm. "I am queer, ya know."

John shook his head. "Hard ta believe."

"Was hard fer me ta believe it, too."

Twist peered at him through narrowed eyes, then looked off over his shoulder, spitting idly on the floor. "Yer all right, del Mar. No bullshit. Not like Jack."

Ennis ground his teeth together. "Don't talk about Jack like ya know him, cause ya don't, and that ain't on him, it's on you. He's a good man, and you ain't never gonna see that, are ya? Now yer telling me I'm all right, whatever the hell that means, when ya known me for alla one day? Well, I known you alla one day, and you don't wanna know what I think a you." He started to leave, but Twist grabbed his arm in a surprisingly strong grip and yanked him back.

"Where do you get off thinkin anything a me?" he growled.

Ennis jerked his arm out of Twist's grasp. "He won't say it but Jack still wants ya t'approve a him, like any son wants it. I ain't got that problem, so I'm free ta call ya out fer beatin on a helpless little boy ta make yerself all big. No kinda man does that. I'm a father and so's Jack and neither of us ever beat on our kids. So you can call us queers or faggots or whatever, it don't make you any less a son of a bitch." He waited for Twist's outraged response, but it didn't come. He just stared at Ennis for a second, then looked away, down at the ground. Ennis turned and stalked out.

Jack was just hanging up the phone when he entered. He started to speak but then saw Ennis's face. "What? What happened?"

"Oh, nothin new. What'd that guy say? I wanna get outta here."

"He said he could come up here and talk ta Dad anytime. I couldn't believe it, thought I'd hafta drive the old man down ta Buffalo or somewheres, but Benderman said he could use the drive. Said he'd call Dad later tonight and set it up." He was talking about one subject, but his eyes were watching Ennis's expressions having to do with a different one. "You wanna get goin?"

"If we're done here, yeah." He sighed. "Jack, I gotta think about gettin back home."

"Yeah, I know," Jack said, with a resigned sigh. "I been worryin about the ranch, too."

"If we can get goin here before lunch, I'll call Lizzie when we get back ta Gillette and see if she can get me a flight out tomorrow."

Jack nodded. "You know that I…"

"I know ya cain't come with. You got lots ta do."

"I gotta find a renter fer the ranch and a house fer the folks and get Ma moved and get him moved…Christ, I don't wanna think on it. I gotta get a move on quick as I can if I don't wanna be stuck here a month."

"I wish I could stay n help you."

"Me too, bud." John walked in, glowering. "Dad, me n Ennis are fixin ta head back ta Gillette now."

"Oh yeah?" Twist said. Ennis was surprised to hear the note of neutrality in the man's voice. He'd have thought the man would be delighted to see their taillights. "You talk ta that fella…"

"Benderman. Yeah, jus now. He says he's willin ta come up here and talk with ya."

"That so?"

"Yeah. He's gonna call ya this evenin n set up a time, so you be sure yer around n such."

"Don't tell me what I gotta do like I'm five years old," Twist said.

"Here's his number n all," Jack said, handing his father a card. "Try not ta piss him off or nothin, okay?" Twist grumbled something, taking the card. "And I'll be callin ta find out what he said."

"Treatin me like a fuckin child, cain't take care a nothin by hisself."

"Yeah, well, get used to it," Jack snapped. "C'mon, Ennis, let's get our stuff."

Ennis followed him up to the guest bedroom. Jack had made the bed and packed their suitcase. "How'd you know we were leavin?"

Jack rolled his eyes and stuck out his hand. "Hi, have we met? I'm Jack Twist, and I've known you for twenty years."

Ennis glanced around. "Where…what'd you do with…you know."

Jack smiled and patted the bag. "They're comin with us. Or I should say, they're goin home with you."

"You want me ta take em home?"

"Where else they belong? This house be used by someone else pretty soon, I hope, and them shirts gotta stay with us, don't they?"

"Oh yeah, a course. Jus…kinda wanted ta keep that between us."

"Have I said we shouldn't? Figured you could take em home, put em someplace safe. You do what ya think is right." He picked up their bag and they headed back down to the kitchen. John Twist was still standing there. "Well, Dad…guess I'll be talkin to ya soon, probly seein ya soon, too."

"I got a choice?"

"Not really."

Twist set his jaw. "Well…say hello ta yer mother."

"You could call her, ya know. I wrote the number a her room on the notepad by the phone. She'd like that, I bet."

"Maybe I will." Father and son stood staring at each other for a moment. Jack squared his shoulders and stuck out his hand. Twist looked at it for a moment, then shook it with an unintelligible grunt that Ennis guessed was supposed to suffice for a good-bye. Jack walked out and Ennis followed. "Del Mar," Twist's voice said, low.

Ennis stopped and turned back. "What?"

"Guess you think I'm some kinda monster."

"You care what I think?" John's eyes flicked to his face and then away, and Ennis saw with amazement that he _did_ care. "I think you were born a bastard, but you didn't hafta stay one. That was yer choice. But nothin's forever, ya know. You could still be good ta yer wife and Jack and meet new folks and quit bein a bastard. Ain't never too late ta change. Ya know who taught me that? Yer son. So ya oughta think on listenin ta him now n again, cause if I hadn't, I'd be some miserable lonely old piss-poor ranch hand with no life ta speak of. Ya wanna live like ya always done, ain't none a my business. Ya don't, then he can help ya." He met the man's eyes, exchanged a terse nod, and went out to the car where Jack was waiting for him.

* * *

They stopped off to see Grace on returning to Gillette. She greeted them as if they'd been gone for days instead of just overnight. While Jack filled her in on John's job prospects, Ennis called the ranch (after a quick aside to Jack about using Grace's phone, to which Jack responded with "You know we're payin the bills here, Ennis…call the Pope if you want") and asked Lizzie to see about flights for him the next day.

They didn't stay long, which surprised Ennis. "If you're leavin tomorrow," Jack said as they left Cedar Crest, "then I gotta get what time alone with you as I can." They picked up some take-out and headed back to the hotel.

It was an ordinary evening. They sat on the bed and ate chicken, watching a basketball game on TV. Jack grew quieter and quieter as the evening wore on. Ennis disposed of the detritus from dinner. Lizzie called and gave Ennis his flight information, which he dutifully wrote down. "When you gotta leave?" Jack asked.

"Well, she was able ta get me a commuter flight from Gillette Regional down ta Denver, so I don't gotta drive so far. Plane leaves at nine a.m. Then Denver ta Boston."

"Why cain't ya fly inta Burlington?"

"My truck's in Boston. Remember I drove down there ta get a flight out."

"Oh yeah, right." Jack sighed. "Nine, huh?"

"Yep."

"Guess we better turn in soon."

"Yeah." They just sat there, morosely staring at the TV. Ennis finally hauled himself off the bed. "Gonna shower."

He made quick work of it. He heard Jack enter the bathroom as he was finishing. "Leave it goin," Jack said, and they swapped places. Ennis toweled off and climbed into bed, not bothering with drawers or pajamas. He shut off the light and waited.

Jack emerged from the bathroom and climbed into bed. They lay there side by side for a few moments, not touching. "Don't want ya ta go," Jack finally said.

"I want ya ta come home."

Jack sighed. "Guess neither of us gettin what we want tonight."

"Oh…I dunno if I'd say that. C'mere." Ennis drew Jack into his arms and kissed him. Jack slid over on top of him, pressing their groins together and drawing a moan out of Ennis.

"Gonna be the last we get of each other fer awhile," Jack said. "How you want it?"

"Want ya inside me," Ennis murmured, kissing Jack's face. "Been wantin it since I put on that shirt a yers." He felt Jack smile against his lips.

"I'm real glad ya found em, darlin. Not sure what I woulda done with em if ya hadn't."

"You can thank yer ma for it. She told me ta look round. I think she knew they was there."

Jack drew back. "Really?"

"Yeah. She was kinda…specific about me lookin round yer room."

He nodded. "I guess that don't surprise me. Never could hide nothin from her." He bent and kissed Ennis again. "But I don't wanna talk about my ma when I'm about ta give my man what he's askin for," he said, his voice a low purr. Ennis didn't have the chance to agree.

* * *

Ennis woke at seven o'clock and looked over at Jack, sound asleep on his side. He gingerly climbed out of bed, wincing a little. Jack had actually done him twice the night before, and his ass was feeling a bit tenderized. He dressed quietly, shaved and brushed his teeth, and put his shaving kit in his already-packed bag. He got into his boots and put everything right by the door. He took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed by Jack. He ran one hand down Jack's arm. "Jack?"

He shifted onto his back and his eyes fluttered open. "Ennis?"

"I gotta go, bud. Wanted ta say goodbye."

Jack sat up, his eyes flying open. "No…wait, Ennis! I gotta get dressed…we'll have breakfast, and I'll drive ya ta the airport…"

Ennis held him back. "You say where you are. I ain't got time fer a full breakfast, and I'd rather take my leave a you here than in some airport where we gotta be polite." He smiled and touched Jack's face. "I'd rather go away thinkin a you like this," he said, his eyes flicking up and down Jack's naked body.

Jack nodded, looking miserable. "Thought we'd have more time ta say goodbye," he said.

"How much time we really need? More we drag it out, the worse we gonna feel."

"Guess that's true enough." Jack sat up and put his arms around Ennis, who returned the embrace, blinking hard. He shut his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Jack in his arms, his warm skin under Ennis's hands, his sandpapery cheek against Ennis's neck. "I cain't thank ya enough fer comin out here," Jack whispered.

Ennis drew back, meeting Jack's eyes and seeing there the awareness of the many ways this trip had changed them both. "I'm sure glad I did." He kissed him, tender and light.

"Call me tonight, okay?" Jack said.

"I sure will. Every night, till ya come home."

"Hope it's soon. And…if it's lookin like things are gonna take too long…maybe we oughta jus hire a lawyer or somethin ta see ta things and I'll come on home. I cain't let this take over everythin, I got my own home n family ta see to."

Ennis nodded. "That's a real smart idea. Let's see how things stand in a week's time, and we can decide then."

"Okay," Jack said. He exhaled. "Damn, I feel better puttin an upper limit on how long I'm gonna hafta stay here."

"Me too."

"Ya got everythin? The shirts, and that thing Ma gave ya fer Junior?"

"Yup, got everythin." He sighed, his eyes roving over Jack's beloved face, his heart heavy at the prospect of not seeing it again for at least a week. "Guess I best be off, then."

Jack hugged him again. "Now, when yer beatin off," he said, "it's okay if yer thinkin a Paul Newman."

Ennis chuckled. "You gave me plenty a beatin-off material these past few days." He drew back and kissed him once more, his hand lingering on Jack's face. "Love ya so much, Jack."

"I love you too, cowboy."

Ennis rose and went to the door. He put on his coat and picked up his bags, Jack watching him from the bed. He turned back and managed a wan smile. "Bye, darlin."

"Bye." Jack raised a hand. Ennis pretended he didn't see Jack's chin trembling, or hear the quiet sob as he shut the door behind him.

He strode quickly out of the hotel, looking neither left nor right. He ignored the clerk's wave and headed to the parking lot, where he put his bag in the back, got into the driver's seat, looked left and right to make sure he was unobserved, then put his head down on the steering wheel and let himself cry.


	28. Chapter 28

_Hello readers. My apologies that I had not uploaded the existing chapters of TCJ past chapter 27. I've had some issues with going back a ways and I stopped posting here, confining my posts to my LJ community (link in my profile), but I've decided to go ahead and post the other 11 chapters that currently exist, as I prepare to conclude the story. Thanks for your kind comments and your patience!_

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Ennis pulled the truck into the garage with a sigh, glad to be home. He didn't know why traveling was so tiring. It wasn't strenuous to sit on an airplane or drive, but he still felt wrecked.

He shouldered his bag and trudged to the house, which was a warm and welcome sight to return to, even if he was coming home to an empty bed. The fireplace was going when he came into the living room, and as soon as he shut the door he heard excited voices coming from the kitchen and chairs being pushed away from the table. To his surprise, Junior appeared first. "Daddy!" she exclaimed, and rushed up to hug him.

He hugged her back, frowning. "What're you doin here, darlin?" he said. Junior let him go just in time for Liz to hug him next. Rod and Lars were hanging back. "You fellas want hugs, too?" he said.

"We'll settle for handshakes," Rod said, doing as he suggested. Lars started off with a handshake, but ended up pulling Ennis into a one-armed hug, slapping his back.

"Welcome home!" he boomed.

Ennis was a bit bowled over by this reception. "I only been gone a few days. And Junior, I thought I told you ta stay at school until things was settled!"

She and Liz exchanged a glance, both of them grinning. "Things _are_ settled, Daddy!"

He frowned. "Huh?" He looked at Rod and Lars, who were also wearing insufferably self-satisfied smiles. "You all wanna fill in the guy that owns the place?"

"We took care of it," Liz said.

"You _took care_ of it? That sounds like ya hired a hitman or somethin."

"Not quite that dramatic! But Calvin Showalter is in jail, and so are five of his little friends."

Ennis's jaw dropped. "In jail for what?'

"Attempted arson, among other things."

"How…why…I don't…"

Liz grinned again. "You were leaving town, so we got the idea that having both you and Jack away from the ranch might be tempting, and they might try to pull something. So we just made it really easy for them, then waited for them to take the bait."

_two days earlier…_

"Liz, this is Erland Reynolds," Walter said.

"At last! The mysterious Deputy Erland!" Liz said, coming around the table to shake the man's hand. He was tall and gangly in a Barney Fife kind of way.

"Ma'am," Erland said, with a nod and a smile.

"I ought to thank you for everything you've done to help us."

"No need, ma'am. It isn't exactly fun hanging around with these folks, but it's the job."

"I brought him around just so we could all be clear," Walter said. "Liz, tell him what you and Rod are up to."

"Well," Liz said, sitting down and motioning the two men to do likewise. "Since Ennis and Jack are both out of town, I had the idea that if we act like we're closing up shop and going down to a skeleton crew that it might make them try something."

Erland nodded. "It might. They've been bitching about having extra men patrolling out here."

"What do you think they might do?"

"I don't know. They were pretty peeved that the stable didn't burn. Might try something like that again."

"Would they really believe that a deputy would condone breaking the law?" Walter said.

Erland shrugged. "They shouldn't, but I can't say any of them are the sharpest knives in the drawer. Showalter's the ringleader, and he's no fool, but he's also so eager to believe that everyone thinks the way he does that he wouldn't question much." He looked back at Liz. "So what, the idea is to stake the place out and wait for them to try something? Kind of risky, isn't it?"

Walter interrupted before Liz could answer. "With all the men who've been patrolling we'll have plenty of manpower. I was thinking we could rig up some floodlights, too." He hesitated, then turned to Liz. "What do Ennis and Jack think of this plan?"

She fidgeted a bit. "I wasn't planning on telling them, actually. No, don't say it…I know it's their ranch and yeah, they might kill me later, but they've got enough on their minds without worrying about this. It'll all be over by the time Ennis comes home, and if it all goes well, we could welcome him back with some good news."

Liz felt like a secret agent. She and Walter were huddled in the dark down by the river, hiding behind some bushes, waiting for something to happen. She'd already been quite severely warned that if anything did happen, she was to stay put and do nothing.

Cady was in the darkened barn up by the drive, the infamous FAGGOT barn. He'd be able to see any cars approaching. Lars and two deputies were hidden in the basement, near the sliding doors that gave onto the backyard. Another deputy was crouched in the kitchen, out of sight. Rod had stationed himself under the bungalow's porch, and a whole bunch of the hands were hunkered down in the stable. Every group had one of the ranch's short-wave radios, and the officers all had their own radios. Liz worried about them being overheard by anyone trying to sneak onto the property, but some quick tests had revealed that if they spoke in whispers and turned the volume way down, the radios couldn't be heard from more than a few feet away.

According to Erland, the news that Ennis was leaving town and that the ranch was going dark for a few days had been greeted with catcalls and "hollerin." Showalter, still sporting a bandage on his nose and itching to re-establish his male pride after having it smashed by Marianne, had immediately started foaming at the mouth about having chased the faggots out of town, and how he hoped they'd stay gone while they could, and maybe he ought to make sure they didn't have a reason to come back.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Liz whispered to Walter.

"Let's just be grateful it isn't so cold tonight," he whispered back.

"What if they get by us and they actually pull something off? Jack and Ennis will never forgive me."

"They won't get by us. And if we catch them with gas cans in hand we'll have something concrete to hang them with, especially if we can tie some of them in to the attempt to torch the stable. We've already got the prints from the postcard and the truck when the tires were slashed. I'll bet we can get at least a couple of them to sing like little birdies, too, and we'll be able to establish a clear pattern of harrassment."

"We won't be able to get all of them arrested, though. There'll still be more out there."

"But it'll be a heckuva message." Walter hesitated. "It's a good idea, Liz."

"I hope so. It's just…this is their home, you know, and mine too. Makes me nervous to use it as bait."

Walter shifted a little and sat down. There wasn't any snow on the ground now; they'd been enjoying some above-freezing temperatures and the yard was mostly bare and dry. "You think of this place as your home, do you?"

Liz tucked her cold hands into her armpits. "Yeah, I sure do. Doesn't seem possible I've only lived here six months. Came here for a story and ended up with a new life."

"Funny how things work out."

"Funny's one word for it. Scary, that's another one."

"What's scary?"

She thought for a moment. "Oh, you know…that a person's whole existence is so fleeting that everything can change, just like that. I thought of myself as so rooted in New York, but the strings tying me there were broken in a few short days and I was just floating. I mean…we agonize over all these supposedly life-changing decisions. Where to go to college, what job to take, what person to love, what degree to pursue, what stock to buy. I was one of those people who made Pro and Con lists for everything." Walter chuckled in a way that made Liz think he did the same thing. "You try and engineer your life so that it'll turn out how it's supposed to, and then one day the mayor of Farmingdale, Vermont offers you a ride to your hotel and you end up with a totally different life, one that you couldn't ever have even conceived of. Now, it turns out that it probably didn't make much difference that I went to NYU instead of Brown, but I drew the short straw to write that story about the mayor and here I am, a different person because of it."

Walter looked over at her. "Are you really a different person, though? Or just a person in a different life?"

Liz shrugged. "Same thing."

"Hmm. Don't know that it is."

She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them. "Whichever it is, I think I definitely like it better now."

"Don't miss the city?"

"I thought I would, but I don't. I'd like to visit from time to time, but…nah, don't miss it."

Walter's radio gave a quiet hiss, then Cady's whispered voice. "Thinkin jus saw some kinda truck goin down t'old creek road," he said.

"Everybody look sharp and quiet," Walter whispered back.

He and Liz crouched down behind their shrubbery. _How not to be seen,_ the voice of John Cleese proclaimed in her head, and Liz had to stifle the giggles. Her senses felt hyperactive, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she felt predatory and alert. She heard something…footsteps approaching, and low mutters. "Someone's coming," Walter whispered into the radio. "Coming from the creek road past the stables. Hold off till they get near the house."

Liz saw them then, and felt Walter tense up next to her. A group of about six men, sneaking along the treeline not twenty feet in front of them. All of them were carrying gas cans.

"Everyone look sharp," Walter said.

"So they started pouring gas around the foundation and one of them made to break a window to get inside, and we had them. Turned on the lights and moved in and they were caught red-handed before they even knew what was going on," Rod said. They'd moved to the kitchen table for the storytime portion of the evening. "They were arrested for attempted arson and all sorts of things, and the DA wants Showalter for conspiracy ta commit murder or attempt to manslaughter or some such thing that I'm not too sure about."

Ennis's eyes widened. "He kill someone?"

"No, but several of the boys, independently, said that Showalter told them to burn up the house and anyone inside it. DA says that's reckless endangerment, and conspiracy, or whatever. Guy's going away, Ennis, and Erland says that a lot of the folks are relieved."

"Relieved? How's that?"

"Well…seems there's plenty of folks who don't mind calling you guys faggots and talking a good talk about wanting to string you up, but most of them wouldn't want to go so far as to actually do you harm or risk getting their own asses in trouble. Showalter had been talking a lot of people into things that might not have been in their character to do, and sometimes threatening them into doing them."

Ennis's brow knitted. "Sure it's fine fer them ta say that now, but betcha they had a good laugh over Jack gettin hurt or the stables burnt."

Lars patted Ennis's forearm. "You don't have to listen to what folks say behind closed doors, son. If they don't bother you none, they can go be ignorant assholes all they want."

Ennis smiled. "You sure got a way with words, Lars."

"It's a gift. So you gonna tell us about your trip, then? Or we gonna sit around bemoaning the state of the world all night?"

Rod and Lars put their coats on and said good-night, Rod and Ennis exchanging a few quick words of ranch business on the way. "Nice to have you back, son," Lars said, slapping Ennis's shoulder.

"Nice ta be back." They left through the front door with a wave. Ennis went back to the kitchen where Lizzie was putting on her coat.

"I'm going to say goodnight, too," she said. "I'm beat."

"Don't doubt it, with all this excitement."

"I'm just glad it's over," she said. "You coming, Junior?"

"Actually," Ennis cut in. "You mind stayin a bit, Junior? Want ta talk to ya."

"Sure, Daddy."

"All right," Liz said. "See you tomorrow." A blast of cold air snuck in around her feet as she left through the patio door.

Junior turned to him. "What's on your mind?" She smiled a little hesitantly. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

Ennis chuckled. "Well, not with me, anyhow. No, I jus got some stuff ta tell ya. Let's go on in the livin room." She followed him to the couch and sat down next to him. "I didn't want ta say so with the others here, but…I seen yer sister while I was in Gillette."

Junior nodded. "Thought you mighta done. What'd she say? By your face, it didn't go too well."

"No, it sure didn't. She said some pretty awful things. I won't repeat em." He shook his head. "It is a hard thing ta know that my daughter's got such bad feelins fer me cause a who I'm with and the life I live."

She reached out and grasped his hand, leaning forward and speaking intently. "That's her thing, Daddy. It isn't your fault."

He sighed. "Hard ta think on it. But what made me feel better was knowin that I still had you." He smiled and touched Junior's cheek. "I ain't so good at sayin stuff, but…ya gotta know how much it means ta me that yer in my life, baby girl. And that yer okay with…everythin. Seein Francie and hearin her talk jus made me remember that, and want ta tell ya jus as soon as I saw ya."

"Aww, Dad," Junior said, her mouth curling in a half-smile. "You're better at saying stuff than you think."

"I know it ain't always been easy for ya," Ennis went on. _I am gonna keep talkin until I get this all out, goddammit._ "With yer ma and me splittin up, then me movin, and ranchin up with some man ya didn't even know."

Junior looked away. "No, it hasn't always been easy."

"And…I know that, uh…ya probly still got questions n things confusin ya."

"Well…"

He held up a hand. "You don't gotta say nothin, I know. Yer a grownup now, Junior, and ya deserve ta know the truth a stuff."

"What truth?" she said, frowning.

Ennis sighed. "I know I ain't never told ya much bout me n Jack, n how…how it happened."

"You told me some. Herding sheep and such."

"Right. Well…somethin I wanna show ya." Ennis pulled his bag closer and opened it. He reached in and drew out the shirts, just the sight of them pulling at his heart, yearning back towards Jack where he was, thousands of miles away like they were connected with fishing line and either of them could give a tug and feel it answered. He spread the shirts, his own inside Jack's just the way he'd found them, across his lap. Junior looked puzzled.

"What's this?"

Ennis took a deep breath. "Our boss brung us down early off the mountain," he said quietly. "Was real sudden. I was so mixed up inside I hardly knew which way was up. I was scared a losin Jack, and more scared a what that meant, and scared a goin back ta marry yer ma, and scared a bein scared, and God knows what else. Anyhow, Jack tried ta cheer me up some and we was kinda horsin around…no, not like that," he said, blushing, off Junior's raised eyebrow. "But he got me in the nose with his knee by accident. Bled like a stuck pig. He tried ta clean me up with his sleeve, and I hauled off n punched him."

"You punched him?" Junior said, blinking.

"Yep. Was like…had too much boilin inside, and it hadta leak out, like a pressure cooker, and I didn't have it in me ta say nothin so that was the only way. A punch. I hadta change my shirt cause I got blood all over the sleeve a mine."

Junior was looking at the shirts more closely now. She picked up the sleeve and saw the blood, then met his eyes. "Daddy…"

"These are them shirts, darlin, the ones we was wearin that day. When I was at Jack's folks' place, I happened ta go inta his old room and I found em hangin in the back a his closet. Been hangin there since 1963. That young kid he was then took my shirt…I jus thought I'd left it up there by mistake…and hung it with his. Tucked inside, like he was holdin me close." Ennis felt his voice quivering a little. Junior was holding his hand now. "He didn't know if he'd ever see me again, but he kept this, jus like this, safe in his secret little place." He looked up and met his daughter's eyes. "I dunno if you can understand, if anybody can. Not sure even I do. But…I know the thing with him n me cost ya, darlin. Cost me, too, and yer sister and yer ma, and Jack's wife and boy, and Jack, too. Cost all of us. I'd jus hope that by tellin ya about this, maybe you could see a bit more a what that thing is, and how long it's lived."

Junior reached out and took the shirts from Ennis's hands, holding them before her, touching the fabric gently. "He loved you all that time," she said.

Ennis rubbed his hand over his eyes. "More'n I wanted or deserved."

"Kept these like…some kinda charm."

He nodded. "I hoped you'd understand."

"What are you gonna do with these?"

"I dunno."

"I think you should hang them up and keep them real safe. And…don't take them apart, Daddy. Wouldn't be right."

He smiled. "No, it surely wouldn't."

She held the shirts on her lap, one hand stroking them absently. "Daddy…I don't want to lie to you now. It has been hard for me to understand you, and…well, your feelings, and what it was with you and Jack. There've been lots of times that I hated Jack, and sometimes hated you, too. I was a kid, and thinking about myself like kids do. It's a weird thing when you're a kid and you suddenly get it that your parents are people, and they had lives and they existed before you were born. You know?" Ennis nodded. "It was so strange to think that you had this life that I didn't know about, that didn't include me, that there was this whole part of you that I'd never seen and didn't know was even there. You just…" She chuckled. "You never seemed that complicated."

Ennis smiled. "No, I reckon not."

She looked up and met his eyes. "I'm real glad that I know you now."

He blinked, feeling the sting of tears. "Me too, darlin."

Jack picked up on the first ring. "Ennis?"

"No, I was jus callin ta see if ya wanted ta buy some Amway."

"Ha ha. I been waiting for ya ta call! Was jus about ta start lookin at the news fer plane crashes!"

"Sorry, bud. Kinda got busy after I got home, I'm jus now gettin ta unpackin my stuff."

"Busy?" Jack sounded instantly suspicious. "More trouble?"

"Naw. Opposite a trouble, actually. Walked in the door and Liz, Rod and Lars are tellin me that the whole thing's plumb took care of, and all them assholes are sittin in jail."

"What?" Jack exclaimed. "Their parking tickets all catch up to em at the same time?"

"No…seems they got set up by some ranch hands and one meddlesome lady writer. They spread the word that I was gonna be gone and made em think the ranch was shuttin up, hopin they'd try somethin…well, they did, and sheriff caught em in the act."

"Holy Christ. What were they tryin ta do?"

"Burn the house."

"Shit."

"I know. But they ain't gonna burn nothin no more, Jack. It's over n done with, much as such a thing's ever over."

"I cain't believe this. This was Lizzie's idea?"

"Yep. She and Walter set it up."

"What if it'd gone wrong, huh? Be nice if we were in on it."

"Yeah, I thought the same, but…it's past, nothin ta be done. I'm sure she didn't wanna worry us none."

Jack snorted. "No, what we got ta worry about, anyhow?"

"Yer dad talk ta that guy?" Ennis asked, hoping to get Jack off the subject.

"Oh. Yeah, he sure's hell did."

"And?"

"My dad's verdict was 'Seems all right.'"

"Hmm. High praise."

"Too right. So it's lookin good. I talked ta Benderman myself and he said Dad can start anytime, but Dad ain't gonna go nowhere until we get the ranch settled and such. So tomorrow I'm gonna put up some ads and make some calls and hope ta hunt up somebody ta rent the property long-term. Then I gotta start lookin fer a house fer them."

"What about a down payment?"

"Well, I was thinking a findin a rental at first. The BML's got some subsidies, and Dad's wage will likely cover their expenses, so all the money from rentin out the farm can go right into the bank and they'll have enough fer a down payment pretty quick, maybe in a year."

Ennis nodded. "That's good. He don't gotta take no charity from us, then."

"Yeah, thought a that."

"Talked ta yer ma?"

"Yup. Spent the afternoon. She couldn't believe Dad agreed ta move off the ranch. I think she'd pretty much resigned herself ta havin ta go back there. A course you got all the credit."

"The hell you say."

"She knows how Dad is about me. 'Oh, I jus knew Ennis would convince yer father!' she says." Ennis could hear Jack smiling. "I think you got a fan fer life in my ma, and no mistake. And I still cain't believe how my dad reacted to ya. Guess yer jus irresistible ta anybody name a Twist."

Ennis blushed. "Hmph. Good thing I only like the ones what got smart mouths on em."

He heard Jack sigh. "Miss you bad already, cowboy."

"Me, too."

"Hard ta believe I jus saw you this mornin. Feels like a million years ago."

"Yep."

"Damn, but yer a chatterbox tonight, ain't ya?"

"I'm fuckin tired, Jack. Been on a plane and in a truck all damned day."

"Yeah, I bet ya are. No need ta get in my face about it, though."

"Well, yer wantin me ta blab away at ya like I don't fuckin know what and I'm here barely keepin my eyes open."

"Excuse me all ta hell fer wantin ta talk to ya! Sorry if I'm keepin ya from yer beauty sleep! And yer the one what called me, ya know!"

"Jus wanted ta check in and give ya the news."

"Well, ya done both so now it's a big fuckin imposition ta talk ta me, I guess."

"Christ, Jack. Never said that."

"Whatever. G'night, Ennis."

"Jack, wait."

"What?"

Ennis sighed. "I'm sorry fer bein short. I jus…" He hesitated, fiddling with the phone cord. "Had a coupla real special days with ya, and I'm damned sorry it's over. Bein back here, house feels kinda small n cold. Never thought I'd be homesick for a fuckin hotel room."

There were a few long beats of silence before Jack answered. "Did have us some days, didn't we?"

"Yeah."

"We'll have more, jus you wait."

"I been thinkin…"

"Bout what?"

"After ya get back, n yer folks is all sorted…what say we take a trip? Get away fer a bit? Reckon we earned it."

"That's a fuckin great idea, Ennis. Go someplace warm jus you n me."

"Well…we'll see bout that."

Jack sighed, sounding a little exasperated. "Yer all worried about goin somewhere we might be seen together, ain'tcha? That folks might _know._"

"You ain't worried enough. Not everyplace is like here, Jack. Hell, this place ain't even like this place no more."

"You jus wanna go up to the mountains or the cabin and hide out, don'tcha?"

"That so bad? We done it fer twenty years!"

"Maybe I'd like ta do somethin different. Go someplace nice where we'd be all taken care of and didn't have ta dig our own toilet."

"Ya never complained before."

"I don't wanna fight about this, Ennis."

"Okay, we won't."

"I got a feelin we're gonna. But not jus now, okay? I cain't take it, not when I'm here in a big bed by myself thinkin on my man's fine-lookin ass."

"Jesus, Jack."

"Like you ain't said as much yerself in yer time."

"What makes ya think yer ass is anythin ta me?" Ennis said, grinning.

Jack laughed out loud. "Oh, that is rich. Ennis Del Mar, the fuckin Ass Master, sayin that my backside ain't nothin ta him."

Ennis couldn't help but chuckle along with him. "What ya want me ta say, huh?"

"Oh, not much. Jus that my ass haunts yer dreams and ya sit up nights fantasizin about all the things yer gonna do it."

"How can it haunt my dreams if I'm sittin up nights?"

"Well, if yer gonna get all picky about it, never mind. I'll jus be here doin squats ta keep this ass in fine form fer ya."

"The effort is appreciated."

"I'm gonna let ya go now, bud. You oughta get yerself some sleep, and I gotta go beat off."

"Okay. Night, Jack."

"Love ya."

"Love ya too." Ennis hung up, shaking his head. He put out the light and slid down in the bed, asleep before he had time to miss the company he was accustomed to having there.

Ennis sat at the other desk in the office, a seat he rarely occupied, but having been away for a few days he wanted to make sure he was up to date. Liz was showing him the recent invoices, Paul's bill for the calving, the final inventory account for the new calves and the orders she'd taken in his absence.

Ennis nodded along, signing what had to be signed, not seeing anything noteworthy. Liz was quiet, he noticed, wordlessly passing him papers and answering the phone in a businesslike monotone. "You okay, city gal?"

"Sure," she said, not taking her eyes off the computer screen. "Real glad you're back."

"You, uh…still on the outs with Peter?"

She sighed. "I don't know what I am with Peter."

"Ya seen him since that day the tires got slashed?"

She turned to face him. "Ennis, it's okay. You don't have to pretend to care."

He blinked, a little taken aback. "A course I care."

She pinched her nose with two fingers. "I know you do, that isn't what I meant. You don't have to ask about it. I know you hate talking about people's private lives."

"Well…that don't mean I don't wanna know what's goin on."

"Yes, I've seen him. It was awkward. I miss him, and I'm worried I fucked it all up, and I'm worried that the prospect of having fucked it up isn't making me as upset as I think it should."

Ennis nodded along, trying to follow her little breadcrumb trail of words. "Maybe ya jus need some time." He didn't know if that was true or not, but it always sounded like good advice whenever anyone else gave it to him.

Liz sighed. "Time, sure. Time, I've got." She smiled then and took a deep breath. "No time for wallowing. Things to do. You talk to Jack last night?"

"Yep. Things're workin out for his dad and that job, looks like. Now he's just gotta find a renter fer the farm and a house fer the folks and move his dad and move his mom and do all the paperwork and get everythin set up."

"Gee, is that all?"

"We're thinkin if it starts takin too long we'll jus get a lawyer out there ta handle things so he can come home."

"Good idea."

"Damn straight."

The phone rang. "Brokeback Ranch, it's Liz." She listened. "Yes, he's right here. Hang on." She held out the receiver. "It's for you. I've got to go into town, I'll be back before lunch."

Ennis nodded and took the phone as she left. "Del Mar." No one spoke. "Hello?"

He heard someone clear their throat. "Is this Ennis Del Mar?"

"Yep. Who's this?"

"Uh…the Ennis Del Mar what grew up in Sage, Wyoming?"

Ennis frowned. "Yeah. Who's on the line, if ya don't mind?"

"It's…it's me. Ken."

"Ken? Ken who?"

Another pause. "It's yer brother, Ennis."


	29. Chapter 29

Ennis stood there stupidly for a moment, blinking in shocked confusion. _My brother? Whose brother? I have a brother?_ "Uh…my brother?" he repeated, then squeezed his eyes shut. _Way to sound like the world's biggest asshole, Del Mar._ "K.E.?"

The man on the other end…who'd introduced himself as Ken, Ennis's brain reminded him,…chuckled. "Yeah, cept nobody calls me that, since I cain't get mixed up with Dad no more. Jus Ken will be fine."

"Well, all right," Ennis said, fumbling for the appropriate response to an out-of-the-blue phone call from a relative he hadn't spoken to in nearly twenty years. Two thoughts were chasing each other around his head. The first was _he wants money._ The second, more insistent, was _does he know?_

"I bet yer surprised ta hear from me," Ken said.

Ennis swallowed hard. _I'll let ya know when my heart starts beatin again._ "Well, surprised…yeah, I sure am. Been how long?"

"Almos twenty years. Since you n Alma got married. How's she doin, by the way??"

Ennis exhaled. _He didn't know. Didn't even know he and Alma were divorced._ "We, uh…split up back in 75."

"Oh, that's a real shame. Sorry ta hear that. Split up with Barbara myself. Just a couple years back."

"Sorry bout that," Ennis managed, while his brain raced, trying to keep one step ahead. "So…what's this about, K…uh, Ken? How'd ya get my number here?" _Oh shit, did he talk ta Alma? No, he cain't a done, idiot, she'd a sure told him we was divorced and probly a few other things, too._

"Well, it's kinda strange. One a those small-world things. I, uh…had me some tough times after the divorce, and finally got a steady gig bout six months ago, as a salesman fer this outfit what sells leather goods fer ranchers. Ya know…saddles, bridles, chaps, that kinda thing."

"Sure."

"So I'm at this trade show over in Syracuse last week, and I run inta this guy who when he hears my name, asks me if I'm related ta Ennis Del Mar, ranches over in Vermont. I say, that's my brother's name, but it cain't be him, cause he lives in Wyoming. Guy said he didn't know nothin about that, but it ain't no kinda common name, and that this Ennis ran a place called Brokeback Ranch, which put me in mind a that mountain out past Signal. Thought it mighta been you after all, and…well, I guess it was."

"Guess so," Ennis said, gradually relaxing. It was clear that his brother knew nothing of his circumstances, just his name and where he was. _Goddamn, fuckin K.E._ Ennis had all but given up on having contact with his own siblings ever again, given the length of time since they'd spoken and their likely reaction to his lifestyle. He'd had to be content with the family he'd made for himself: his girls, and Jack. Still, now and then he felt a vague yearning for the ones who'd known him as a child, the only ones who truly understood what those years had been like and had gone through what he had. No matter their disagreements or hardships, that was a common thread that he sometimes missed. Much as the idea terrified him, the possibility of re-establishing contact with his older brother tugged at him. "Well, hell!" he said, allowing himself to smile a little. "This sure is a surprise."

Ken chuckled. "I know it is. Been too long. I, uh…guess we both let ourselves get on in years, didn't we?"

"Yep. Time flies by."

"I hate ta say it, but…well, Barbara weren't never too keen on me talkin ta you or Merle, and it was jus easier not ta argue."

"I been there."

"Guess so. But she ain't in the picture no more, and I guess it don't matter now."

"Guess not." Ennis wasn't sure where this was all going, and he was almost afraid to ask.

"I spose it's kinda weird ta just call ya up outta the blue."

"Well, what should you a done? Sent a letter first askin permission? It's okay," Ennis said.

"I gotta say, I didn't think you'd be this receptive."

_I'm jus fuckin relieved ya don't know I'm queer._ "Why'd ya think that?"

"Dunno. Thought ya might be mad I ain't called ya up in twenty years."

"Well, I guess that ain't all on you, is it? Phone lines go both ways."

Ken laughed. "That they do, little brother." There was an awkward pause. "Well…it's nice ta hear yer voice. Ya sound okay. You, uh…doin all right out there?"

"Yeah. We're doin real well, actually."

"This guy I met, said he only talked to ya but once, but said yer ranch is real successful."

Ennis stiffened a little. _He wants money._ "We're makin a go of it."

"That's real good, then." Ken cleared his throat. "Ya got married again, I guess?"

Ennis shut his eyes. "Uh…yeah, sure did." _Don't ask me no more about that jus now till I catch my fuckin breath._

Happily, that seemed to be the end of his brother's curiosity about that. "Glad ta hear it."

"You?"

"Aw, hell no. Still kinda busted up after the last one. Tell ya the truth, Ennis…I was some kinda mess. Drinkin n stuff."

Ennis sat down, feeling a surge of empathy for this man he'd once known well, his still-familiar voice telling Ennis more with its cracks and trembles than his understated assessment of his own troubles. "I been there myself."

"Cleanin up now. My gig's goin real good."

"Glad ta hear that. What about yer kids?"

"Well, my boy's grown up and in college back in Laramie. My girl's graduatin high school, she's with her ma. I see em when I can. Ya got kids? Seems like I heard ya had a girl, way back when."

"I got two girls. My oldest, Junior…she lives here with me, she's goin ta school up Middlebury. My second, Francine, she's back in Gillette with her ma who's married again." He left it at that.

"It's a blessin ta have yer girl with ya, I reckon."

"Ain't that the truth."

Ken hesitated, then sighed. "Well, Ennis, talkin's okay, but I sure wouldn't mind seein ya, and that ranch ya got."

Ennis took a deep breath. _Keep it vague._ "Yer welcome ta come visit," he said, hoping that such a hypothetical visit might take place months in the future to give everyone time to prepare. His suspicion that his brother wanted money was fading, as he hadn't hinted as much, but there were so many other considerations here.

"I was hopin ya might say that. See…my trade show's done, and I got another one down in Kentucky in a week, and the bosses don't want ta bring me back ta Cheyenne just ta fly me out again, so I got a week ta kill. I thought…maybe…I could come down there now? Pay a call? I know it's sudden n short notice, but it ain't like I knew you was there ta give more notice. Just met this guy the day before last and couldn't do nothin till after the show was done."

Ennis slumped, one hand going to his eyes. _Oh, Christ. Never rains but it fuckin pours._ "Well…yeah, that is real sudden…" _I oughta tell him now. Maybe make him not wanta come at all._ As this thought passed through Ennis's mind, a wave of disappointment followed it, and close on its heels the realization that he actually _wanted_ his brother to come. Despite the many difficulties such a visit would entail, he wanted to see him. And he wanted him to see what Ennis had done, and built…and who he'd built it with. He hadn't given much thought to re-establishing a connection with his brother, but now that the possibility had been dropped into his lap, it called to something inside of him that he'd let die from misuse. "But I'd sure like ta see ya," he finished.

He heard his brother sigh a little, like he was relieved Ennis wasn't refusing him outright. "That's awful charitable a you, Ennis. Ain't like I done much t'earn yer welcome."

"Hey, I ain't been Brother a the Year neither," Ennis said. "Didn't even know you n Barbara split up."

"Yeah," Ken said. "Well…guess I ain't quite used ta livin on my own yet. Gets…kinda lonesome, ya know."

_Boy, do I ever. And I bet you ain't got no blue-eyed rodeo cowboy ta come n save yer sorry ass from it like I had._ "Yeah, I was lonesome after me n Alma split, too." Ennis said, then wished he could take it back. Surely that'd lead into questions about his current spouse…her name, how they'd met…questions he didn't know how to answer quite yet. "I mean, only saw my girls once a month, if that."

"Was you still doin ranch work then?"

"Yeah. One bullshit job after another."

"Sounds like you the bossman now, huh?"

"Yep. Some days I'd rather be one a the hands. Less paperwork."

Ken laughed heartily at that, more than the remark really deserved. "Damn, Daddy'd be proud a you, Ennis. Ownin yer own spread, like he always wanted ta do, makin a go of it. Wish he was around ta see it. Then, I guess he can see everythin from heaven, cain't he?"

Ennis bit his lip. _I hope not. And I ain't so sure that's where he is, neither._ "Guess so," was all he said.

"How long you been out here?"

"Goin on eight years now."

"You meet yer wife out there? Or is she somebody I might know from home?"

Ennis shut his eyes. _I'm sorry, darlin…I jus gotta buy some time._ "Naw, you don't know her."

"Be glad ta meet her, then."

"Oh, uh…she ain't here. She's back West takin care a her mamma, who's been poorly. Be gone till next week." That much, at least, was the truth. The word "she" rasped on his tongue like a dry wooden spoon, sending shudders across his shoulders.

"Oh, ain't that a shame. What's her name, then?"

Ennis could stomach a bit of a temporary pronoun switch but he couldn't bear to invent some fake name like Susie or Margaret to plaster over Jack's like a coat of whitewash on a weather-beaten fence. "When would you be wantin ta come out, then?" Ennis asked, going for the abrupt subject change in lieu of answering.

"Well…I made a coupla appointments with clients fer this afternoon and tomorrow. How far is it ta where you are?"

Ennis thought for a moment. "From Syracuse? About four and a half hours, I reckon."

"Got appointments till four tomorrow. What if I were ta leave the day after tomorrow, in the mornin? Get there after lunch?"

That would put him at the ranch on Saturday. Ennis glanced at the calendar. According to their get-a-lawyer plan, Jack would be due back home next Thursday or Friday. That would leave time for…well…_shit._ Ennis's head was spinning. His old instinct was telling him to use his day's grace to turn around all the photos of Jack in the house, make up a nice fake history for his nonexistent wife, greet K.E., spin some fairy stories that wouldn't rock the boat none, and get him out before Jack's return.

_No. I swore I wasn't gonna hide no more. I ain't pretendin there ain't no Jack. Be like pretendin the sun don't set or cowshit don't stink. It'd hurt too damned much ta act like he don't exist. Cain't do that ta him, even if he ain't here. I jus gotta get ahold a myself here. And I gotta talk ta Jack about this. Right the fuck now._

"Uh…yeah, I'm lookin on the calendar here, and that looks jus fine. It's a quiet time round here, jus finished up with the calvin. Good time fer guests."

"Well, that's jus fine, then. I'm real glad yer amenable, Ennis. I gotta say it, uh…took me some time ta work up the nerve ta pick up the phone."

"Why?"

"Thought ya might have harsh feelins towards me."

"Why'd ya think somethin like that?"

"Well, cause I ain't kep in touch, and I kinda left ya ta fend fer yerself once I got married, never even checked up ta see if you were doin okay…"

"I was grown up. Wasn't yer job ta look out fer me."

"Was, though. Daddy always said was up ta me ta make sure you n Merle was all right."

"You still talk ta her?"

"Now n then. She's been sayin we oughta look you up fer a few years now. Sayin ain't the same as doin, though. She's all right. Still lives in Casper with her husband, he's some kinda factory manager now, makes good money. Got three real nice kids."

Ennis nodded, this information striking him at yet another neglected center of family connection he was surprised to find slumbering inside. Three nieces or nephews he'd never seen or met. Sister and brother-in-law living what sounded like a nice little life, a life he could have been a part of if he'd cared to pick up a phone. Jack had needled him about getting in touch with his siblings on occasion, but a retort about Jack not calling his parents usually closed the subject. He supposed with the Twist family on something approaching harmonious terms now he didn't have any more excuses. "Glad ta hear it," he said. "Maybe someday we can have ourselves a little reunion," he said. _Who you fuckin kiddin? Soon's you tell them the truth they gonna forget they ever had a brother name a Ennis._

"That'd be nice," Ken said, and Ennis could hear in his voice a little twinge of the yearning that had surprised Ennis's own heart. Maybe his relatively recent divorce had made Ken want to reach out, he thought. It'd had the opposite effect on Ennis himself, but not everyone was the same. "So…ya wanna gimme the directions ta yer place, then?"

"Sure enough," Ennis said. He waited for Ken to get a pencil and paper and rattled off the directions, his mind already running ahead to what he'd say to Jack and how the hell he'd tell Ken the truth. _You oughta jus tell him now. Spare him the trip. Ridiculous ta make him come all the way here jus so's you can tell him yer queer and he can turn right around and go back._ "So, guess we'll be seein ya sometime Saturday afternoon, then?"

"I'll give a ring when I'm leavin town, so's ya know when t'expect me."

"That'd be jus fine."

"Lookin forward to it, Ennis."

Ennis nodded, although his anticipation was mostly of the dread variety. "Same here."

He didn't even bother to hang up. He just depressed the toggle and dialed Jack's hotel from memory. _Just about nine o'clock out there…maybe catch him before he leaves fer the day._ The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer. "Would you like to leave a message, sir?" the desk clerk said.

"Yes," Ennis said, for once not caring about how it would look for him to leave a personal message for another man. "Tell him ta call home right away, it's urgent. Oh…make sure'n tell him ain't nothin wrong, don't want him ta worry. Jus that Ennis needs ta talk ta him."

"Ennis?"

"That's right. E-n-n-i-s. Ya got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thanks." He hung up and sat there staring at the phone for a moment before finally rising with a rueful headshake. _He ain't callin in the next five minutes, dumbass. Go about yer day and try ta keep a clear head, fer Christ's sake._

_

* * *

  
_

Jack came back to the hotel after having lunch with his mother; he had some phone calls to make. As he passed through the lobby, the clerk hailed him. "Mr. Twist!" He detoured over to the desk.

"Yeah?"

"You have a message." She handed him a slip of paper, which read _Call home immediately._ Jack's heart plummeted. _Oh, mother of God, what now?_ The clerk saw his expression. "Oh, he said I ought to tell you that nothing's wrong, just that Ennis needs to speak to you."

That made him feel marginally better, but still a bit alarmed at what could have moved Ennis to leave an honest-to-God message that tacitly spoke of the closeness of their relationship with an actual human desk clerk. "Thanks," he muttered, and hurried off for the elevator.

He was dialing the phone before he'd gotten his coat all the way off. "Brokeback Ranch, it's Liz."

"It's Jack, Lizzie, is…"

"I'll get him, he's out in the shed. Hang on." He heard a clunk as she dropped the receiver on the desk, then far-off mumbled voices as she called him on the short-wave. "He's on his way," Liz said. "I'll leave you to talk."

"What the hell is all this?" Jack demanded.

"I better let Ennis explain. It's nothing bad…I don't think. Don't panic." She put the receiver down again and Jack sat there, impatiently drumming his fingers as he waited for Ennis to return to the house and pick up the line.

"Jack?" Ennis finally said, coming on the line, sounding a little out of breath.

"Ennis, what's goin on?"

"Hoo, you ain't gonna believe it," he said. Jack could hear him doffing his coat and taking a seat.

"Will ya jus fuckin tell me?"

"My brother called."

"Yer…yer brother? K.E.?"

"Yeah, cept he's goin by Ken these days. He's got some job in ranch sales and ran inta somebody at a trade show what knew me, and asked if we was related. He didn't even know I was livin out here, so he called me up."

"And…does he…"

"Naw, he don't know nothin. He's gonna come visit."

"Visit?" Jack exclaimed. "You don't hear from him fer twenty years and all at once he's comin ta visit?"

"Day after tomorrow. Jack, I don't know what ta do."

"You didn't tell him, did you?"

"No, not on the phone. But Jack, don't you worry none. I am gonna tell him the truth right away. I promised ya I wasn't gonna hide it no more and I mean ta stick ta that. Even if it means he turns right around and walks right out that door, he's gonna know the truth, I swear."

Jack sighed. _He's sayin that cause he knows that's what I'd want. I'd want him to stand before his brother, one of his only kin left, and tell him that he's gay and that he's got a partner name a Jack Twist, and show him my picture and tell him that he's crazy in love with me and that he don't give a shit what his brother thinks or says and that if he don't like it he can just go fuck himself._

He shut his eyes tight. Maybe that's what he wanted, but that might not be what was best. Maybe there'd been a time when he'd have _needed_ Ennis to say those things, just to know that he would, but that time was past. He took a deep breath. "Ennis?"

"What?"

"Don't tell him."

There was a long pause. "What?"

"Ya heard me. Don't tell him. Not right away."

"But…Jack…I cain't lie…"

"Yes, ya can. Fer a little while."

"I don't…why…" Ennis sighed. "I'm so fuckin confused."

Jack sat back in the desk chair and collected his thoughts. "Darlin, it means a lot ta me that yer so set on tellin him. Ya come so far, and I know part of it is that ya think that I'd want ya ta tell him about us. I ain't sayin I don't want ya to, but…maybe it ain't such a good idea ta hit him with it right outta the gate. I mean, it's yer fuckin _brother,_ Ennis. I know what that means. Might be that it's yer last chance ta get ta know him, and have any kinda family feelin again. I know you've missed that some."

"Yeah," Ennis said quietly.

"So could be we oughta take a step back and think about this. Ain't like I'm there fer him ta wonder who the hell I am. Give ya some breathin room."

"Breathin room?"

"Yeah. Talk ta him. Feel him out some. Jus try n get a sense a what he's like. So's ya might know what kinda reaction yer likely ta get, ya know?"

Silence. Jack could almost see Ennis back home, chin sunk down on his chest, considering this. "Well…he might be less inclined ta fly off the handle if he's been around fer a coupla days."

"This is what I'm sayin. Work up to it." A thought struck him. "What'd you already tell him, anything?"

"Well, he asked if I was married again, I said yes. Didn't ask too much more about that, cept I said that my…uh, wife…was off takin care a her sick mamma."

Jack chuckled. "All the times folks called me yer wife in jest, never thought I'd hear you doin it yerself."

"Felt weird. Didn't like sayin it."

"Well, I sure's hell hope it felt weird."

"Jus didn't wanta get into it over the phone."

"Yeah, I get that. But…ya get what I'm sayin?"

"I get it, I jus cain't believe yer actually sayin it. Yer actually tellin me ta hide it."

"He's jus about the last a yer family, Ennis, at least the one you were born with. Be a shame ta lose that jus cause we didn't exercise a bit a restraint." He hesitated, playing idly with the phone cord. "Ta be honest? The fact that you wanted ta tell him, that's enough fer me. I don't need ya ta prove nothin ta me. Feel like we're past all that, specially after the time we had here, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. Jus…didn't want ya ta get the idea I was still…ya know. Ashamed."

"I know. Means a lot ta me that you were willin. But that ain't no reason ta just dump it on him the minute he walks in the door. Might be that he'd be more…receptive…after y'all have gotten ta know each other a bit."

"And what if I get ta know him and find out that he's a hard-hearted, queer-hatin bastard?"

"Well…let's not go lookin fer trouble."

"We never do, but it seems ta find us jus fine on its own."

"We'll talk about that if it happens. One thing at a time."

"Christ, Jack. We ain't had one thing at a time happen ta us since I don't know when."

"You got that right. Half the time I'm as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room fulla rockin chairs, jus waitin fer the next calamity ta visit itself on us. Not that yer brother's a calamity," he hastened to add.

"He might be. Don't know."

"How'd he sound on the phone?"

"Hard ta say. Sounded kinda…okay, actually. Said he'd had some drinkin troubles, his marriage broke up. Maybe that he's wanting ta rebuild some bridges."

"That's good. If he had his own troubles, might make it harder ta judge you."

"Got the feeling he was afraid he'd call and I'd tell him ta go fuck himself. Was relieved that I didn't."

"Hmm. Well, maybe it'll all be fine."

He heard Ennis snort. "Yeah. When I tell him, he'll clap me on the back and we'll all dance around the fuckin maypole and pick flowers and he'll whip out a guitar and sing songs about his queer brother."

Jack blinked. "Damn. Where'd _that_ come from?"

"I'm just tired a the fuckin suspense, always wonderin how folks is gonna react, if we oughta tell em, if we oughta keep quiet, if it shows, if they're hatin on us behind closed doors. It ain't fuckin right, Jack!"

"Hey, yer preachin ta the choir here! I know it ain't right, but yer the one always tellin me that it's the way a the world and we jus gotta suck up and deal with it."

"I don't know bout you, but I could sure use a couple less things ta deal with."

"Yeah." Jack sighed, letting his head fall back. "I wish I was there ta help ya, but maybe it's best I ain't."

"Never thought I'd be glad that ya weren't around. But only cause a that."

"I sure cain't wait ta be back in yer bed, cowboy."

"Well, that's yer rightful place, ain't it?"

"Sure is."

"And no brother a mine's gonna keep ya from it. Coupla days, he'll know everythin and if he cain't deal, then that's too fuckin bad."

Jack nodded. "That would be too bad," he said, echoing Ennis's words without the bravado he'd put on them.

Ennis was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, it would be. Hope it don't come ta that."

"Me too."

"Well…best be getting back ta work. Thanks fer callin back."

"Ya did make it sound pretty urgent."

"I know. Hope I didn't startle ya none."

"Little. It's okay." Jack smiled. "I love you, Ennis."

"Mm," Ennis said, and Jack could see his head bowing, cheeks coloring. "Love ya too." He hung up.

Jack set the phone down. _His brother. Christ on a cracker. What next?_


	30. Chapter 30

Liz came into the living room from the hall, holding a framed photo of Jack from his rodeo days. "Forgot this one," she said.

Ennis was standing by the sideboard with a stack of photos that pictured Jack, slowly picking each one up and looking at it before putting it in an empty drawer. The look on his face was heartbreaking. He took the photo from Liz and smiled as he examined it, then sighed as he put it with the others. "I fuckin hate this, Lizzie," he said quietly.

"I know," she said, putting a hand on his arm. "It's only for a few days."

Ennis held up the photo of the two of them with one of the workhorses, out by the stable. "I'm gonna leave this one up. Ain't too suspicious fer a man ta have a picture with a buddy, is it?" he said, meeting Liz's eyes.

"No, of course not."

Ennis smiled and nodded, then set the picture on the sideboard. "I think that's everything, then."

"What about…" Liz hesitated, despising the fact that she even had to bring it up. "What about Bobby's jersey?"

Ennis shook his head, a quick and decisive denial that told her he'd already thought of that. "No, I ain't takin that down. No way. If he asks about it…I'll jus make somethin up."

"I could say it's my brother or something," Liz offered.

"Maybe. He'll be staying down the other hall so I guess he might not even see it. No call ta go down that way."

"This is hard for you, I know," Liz said.

"Yeah. Feel like I'm s'posed ta erase Jack from my life." He snorted. "Tried ta do that before and it didn't take, no reason it ought ta do so now. At least the most important thing can stay up."

"What's that?"

He grinned and nodded past her head to the fireplace, and the photograph of Brokeback hanging over it. "That, a course. Ain't nothin suspicious about a nice picture a some mountain, is there?"

"Sure isn't," Liz said, smiling back at him.

There was a knock at the door; both of them turned to see Lars standing on the porch peering through the window. Ennis raised a hand and waved him in. "Well hey, Lars," he said as the man entered. "Ain't seen you in a coupla days."

"Yeah, I been kinda busy over at Rod's place. Had a buncha stuff broken and no time to fix it what with the calving and the twins teething and all." He walked up, smiling broadly. "How are you all getting along?"

"Well, we got a matter a some import goin down today. My brother's comin ta visit."

"Huh. I didn't know you had one."

"I ain't seen him or talked ta him in near twenty years. Called me up outta the blue."

Lars was watching Ennis's hands, his brow furrowing. "And…what do you think you're doing, there? What are those, pictures of Jack?" He lifted his head and stared at Ennis. "You're not…oh, damn, Ennis. I thought better of you than this."

"It's jus temporary, Lars. I wanted ta tell him straight out but Jack thought it'd be best if I waited a coupla days. Let him get ta know me a bit before I hit em with the news that his kid brother lives with a man."

"This was _Jack's _idea?" Lars said, looking dubious. "That's pretty hard to believe."

Ennis cocked an eyebrow. "Well now, Lars, it's nice ta hear yer such an expert on Jack seein as y'ain't never even met him. And yeah, it was his idea, and I was kinda surprised myself, but there's some sense to it."

"Really? I don't see how there's any sense to covering up your relationship and denying it to your own brother! If he's going to accept it he'll do so today or three days from now, and if he's not going to accept it then having spent time with him will just make it harder when he finds out!"

Ennis was clenching his jaw now. Liz watched him for the telltale signs that he was losing his temper. If that vein in the middle of his forehead started throbbing she'd advise Lars to beat a strategic withdrawal. "I ain't sayin yer necessarily wrong about that," he said. "But Jack thinks, and I tend t'agree with him, that Ken might be more inclined ta listen ta me and be a little open-minded if he's gotten ta know me and seen the life I live."

"The life you live with another man."

"I know that, Lars! And ya know what, I don't believe it's any a yer business anyhow!"

Lars hung his head and seemed chastised. "I know it isn't. I'm just…I admit I've gotten a tad attached to you and yours, Ennis. I hate to see those pictures going in a drawer."

"I hate it too," Ennis said, a little more calmly. "But this is how I'm handlin things and I'd appreciate it if ya played along. If ya cain't do that, then I'd ask ya ta kindly keep yer distance."

"Might jus do that," Lars said. "Don't know if I could sit by and listen to you spin tales about some wife you don't have."

"I don't plan ta spin no tales. My brother knows that my…spouse…is in Wyoming tending to a sick mamma and that's all I'm gonna say. Plan ta not talk about it as much as possible."

"You'll find that hard to do, I think. You let me know when you've told your brother the truth, because I'll surely look forward to meeting him."

"I'll do that."

Lars glanced from Ennis to Liz and back again, touched the brim of his hat and left. Ennis sighed. "I'm sorry, Ennis," Liz said. "You're right, it isn't any of his business."

"It's okay. He ain't sayin nothin worse'n I'm sayin ta myself."

Marianne came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "What time is your brother expected, Ennis?" she asked.

Ennis looked at his watch. "Oh, uh…I guess…around one?"

"Well, there's a pot of soup on the stove, and I baked you some bread. There's a lasagna for supper and a cheesecake on the porch."

"Damn," Ennis said. "You didn't hafta do all that."

Marianne just blinked, like Ennis's statement didn't compute. "We want to make a good impression, don't we? I'm sorry I can't stay to meet him, Kenny and I are taking the girls skating."

"You run along. I really appreciate ya comin down on a Saturday."

"You know I don't mind."

"I appreciate it anyways."

Marianne put on her coat and patted Ennis's arm as she passed. "Try and be yourself," she said.

Ennis sniffed. "I hardly know what that is without Jack around ta tell me when I'm gettin it wrong."

* * *

Jack sat on the floor, slumped against the bed in his hotel room, listening to the phone ring somewhere in Georgia. After five rings it was finally picked up. "Hello?" She sounded out of breath.

"Hey, Lureen."

"Oh, Jack! Well, I'll be. I was jus thinkin a you earlier."

"You hafta run fer the phone or somethin?"

"Jus walked in the door with some groceries." He heard a rustle as she set down whatever she was carrying. "How're things goin out there in Gillette?"

Jack frowned. "How'd you know I was out here?"

"Oh, Junior filled me in."

"Junior?"

"I called the ranch ta wish you a happy new year and she answered. Filled me in on what's goin on. Had a bit of a chat, actually. She's a real nice young lady."

"Yeah, she sure is. Don't know where she comes by it."

Lureen chuckled. "Good thing Ennis cain't hear ya say that."

"Ennis is many things I like, but charmin ain't exactly one of em."

"So how _are _things goin?"

"All right, I guess. Looks like my dad's gonna start working fer the Wyomin Bureau a Land Management. I gotta find a renter fer the ranch, and someplace fer him and Ma ta live."

"That's quite a to-do list ya got there."

"You ain't kiddin. Hard part's over, though. I still dunno how we managed ta actually get Dad t'agree ta move off the ranch. Had more ta do with Ennis than me, I reckon."

"Ennis?"

"Yeah, he come out ta see me last week. Damn near saved my life. I was at the end a my rope and I don't mind admittin it."

"That was nice a him."

"Nice ain't the word. Anyhow, Dad seems ta listen ta him more'n me. Ennis got a way a intimidatin even the bulliest a bullies. Before we knew it Dad was amenable ta talking about a new job and movin ta town so's Ma could be more comfortable."

"Is Ennis still out there with ya?"

"I wish. Naw, he hadta head back home few days ago. He's got plenty ta deal with on the ranch. New calves, and we've had some trouble in town a late, and now his brother, who he ain't seen in twenty years, is comin ta visit him."

"Does he…uh…"

"Know? Naw, he don't. Ennis wanted ta tell him right off but I told him ta hold off a few days. Give him and his brother a little time ta get reacquainted before he hits him with that."

"Maybe that's wise."

"I hope so." Jack cleared his throat. "So…how're things with you?"

"Jack, you wanna talk about why yer really callin?"

"Why'm I really callin?"

"I had a hard time over the holidays, too. First time…without him."

Jack sighed. "Yeah. Was real tough."

"And I bet now yer mamma's wantin ta hear about him."

"All the time."

"This might sound weird, but at Christmas…I kinda wished you was here. Ain't nobody else understands what it feels like." Her voice was trembling.

Jack nodded. "I know what ya mean. I talk ta Ennis about it. He can imagine…he's got his girls, after all…but there's only so much he can understand. I almost called you a coupla times."

"Would that have made Ennis mad? I can see how it might, considerin what happened."

"No, he wouldn'ta minded, I don't think. Somethin held me back. Dunno what. But bein here…havin ta take care a my parents is doin somethin ta me. It's like, even when I didn't see em, I still had this feelin that they were the ones who took care a me, even if it weren't always the best care. Now I'm the one takin care, and it's turnin things topsy turvy in my head. Like I ain't got no parents no more, and I'm the parent, and that jus makes me think a Bobby more'n more, and how I coulda done better with him, and maybe…"

"We both coulda done better," Lureen said, quietly. "But it ain't no good thinkin like that now. It's too late."

The words struck through Jack's heart like a knife, and it came on him too suddenly for him to fight it back. He burst into tears, clutching the phone headset to his ear with white-knuckled fingers, hearing Lureen sniffling on the other end. "I miss him so fuckin much," he stammered.

"Me too," Lureen said, blowing her nose loudly.

"It never goes away," Jack said, wrestling back control of himself. "I can put on a face and go on about my life but it's always there, kinda hoverin over me, and I cain't make nobody else understand, but I know you do."

"I surely do, Jack. I tried movin hundreds a miles away ta get away from it but it came with me, turns out." She let out a shaky sigh. "At least you got somebody."

Jack played with the phone cord, feeling awkward all at once. "I hate ta think a you going through this all on yer own. I dunno what I woulda done without Ennis."

"I'm okay. I made some friends here, and my cousin's been real supportive."

"You openin that shop?"

"Not yet. I'm makin plans, though."

"Ya know yer welcome ta come up ta the ranch if ya need a break, or a change a scenery. Be nice ta see you," Jack said, meaning it.

"Oh, I dunno how that'd go over," she said with a nervous chuckle.

"You let me worry about that."

"Well. We'll see," she said, in a tone that said 'not in a million years.'

"You take care."

"You too, Jack. Nice ta hear yer voice."

"Bye now." Jack hung up, then stared at the silent phone for a moment. _Go ahead and call him. He won't mind. Might even be glad ta hear from ya._

But his brother's arrivin any second and he's probly tearin out his hair. He don't need ta hand-hold me through another bout a missin Bobby on top a everythin else.

You'd do it fer him, wouldn't ya? Why shouldn't he do it fer you? That's what bein coupled up is all about, ain't it?

It's also about considerin yer partner and fendin fer yerself sometimes when he's got enough on his plate fer more'n two people. Besides, he's feelin bad that he ain't tellin his brother about us right off and hearin my voice right now might jus make him feel worse. I oughta leave him alone till he calls me tonight.

Yer feelin low n sad. Wouldn't ya want him ta call you if he was feelin low n sad? Wouldn't ya want him ta feel like he could, no matter what else you was dealin with?

I ain't sayin he'd be mad, or wouldn't want me ta call. I'm sayin I don't wanna burden him none just today. If it was yesterday or tomorrow, okay. Not today. I can wait. I'll jus go out and talk ta some more realtors and write some more ads and call some more farm supply stores and occupy myself. I'll go'n see my mother and she'll get me talkin about somethin nice and before I know it it'll be evenin and I'll be back here and my man'll be callin me ta tell me how the day went and what his brother's like and maybe then I'll tell him bout how I'm hearin my son's voice on the fuckin wind and how I wish he was here ta hold me and chase them monsters away like only he can do. Or maybe I won't, cause I'm a goddamned grown man and sometimes a man's gotta lean on somebody and sometimes he's gotta prop up his own damned self.

Jack sighed, got to his feet, put on his coat and went out to face the world again, not sure if he felt better or worse.

* * *

Ennis couldn't sit still. He and Lizzie and Junior had eaten lunch in near silence, despite Junior's attempts to draw him out by asking him questions about K.E., very few of which he knew the answers to. Now that his brother was due to arrive any minute, he felt jittery and nervous. Liz was in the office working, Junior was curled up on the couch with a book; neither of them seemed particularly anxious. He, on the other hand, couldn't remember feeling this jumpy since the day he'd paced that little apartment above the laundromat, waiting to see Jack again after four years.

"Daddy, will you please relax?" Junior finally said. "You're making _me _nervous with all your wandering around."

"I cain't sit still."

"I can see that. Why don't we play cards or something? Checkers, maybe? Take your mind off waiting?"

Ennis opened his mouth to respond but before he could get a word out, a movement caught his eyes. There was an unfamiliar truck coming down the driveway, slowly. "Oh Lord, he's here," Ennis muttered.

Junior jumped up and came to his side, grasping his arm. "Now Daddy, it's gonna be just fine, you'll see. Uncle Ken wanted to see you. I'm sure he didn't come here to get up in your face or condemn you for anything."

"That might change once he finds out what there is ta condemn me for."

"It's like Jack said, let's not go looking for trouble, right?"

"And it's like I been sayin. We don't look, but it keeps findin us." The truck pulled up to the house and stopped in the circular drive. Ennis went to the window; he couldn't see much of his brother but a vague shape through the sun's glare on the truck's windshield.

Liz came into the living room, having seen the truck through the office window. "Here we go," she said. "Ennis, would you rather I stayed in the office so you and Junior can meet him?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "No, Lizzie…you stay here. I need all the help I can get."

Outside, Ennis watched as a tall, strongly-built man got out of the truck, peering up at the house through the familiar squint of someone who'd worked a long time in the outdoors. He didn't look much different than Ennis remembered him; namely, a slightly taller, slightly thicker-chested version of himself. He still had his hair, as Ennis did, although it was at least half gray.

Ennis jerked himself into action as Ken climbed the porch stairs. He opened the front door and met his older brother's eyes for the first time in twenty years.

Ken hesitated, then stepped onto the porch. He stood staring for a moment, plain amazement on his weatherbeaten features. "Ennis?" he said, although surely he knew that it could be no one else.

Ennis managed a half-smile. "Hey there, Ken."

Ken nodded and stepped forward, hand extended. Ennis shook it and Ken grasped Ennis's hand in both of his own, pumping it vigorously. "Well, I'll be goddamned. Yer really standing here in front a me."

"I surely am," Ennis said, his smile broadening a little in response to his brother's greeting. "Welcome. Come on in now, it's colder'n penguin shit out here." He stood aside to let his brother enter. Ken looked around at the house.

"Sure is a nice place ya got here," he said.

"Uh…where're yer things?" Ennis asked, looking around. Ken wasn't carrying anything.

"Aw hell…they're in the truck."

"Well, we best bring em on in, then," Ennis said, grateful for a task. He hurried out the door coatless, Ken right behind him. Ken opened up the truck's passenger door and hauled out a suitcase and a knapsack. Ennis took the suitcase and they went back to the house. "Lemme show ya where yer gonna sleep," Ennis said.

"Mighty nice a you ta let me stay. I'da been fine in a hotel."

"Hush now. Yer family," Ennis muttered, hoping he wouldn't be asked to elaborate further. He led Ken down the hall past his and Jack's bedroom. He shot a regretful glance at the closed door and continued on to the guest room where Junior had always slept. "Here ya go." He set down the suitcase. Ken set his knapsack on a chair and looked around at the bed, the bureau, the slightly frayed easy chair in the corner.

"Real homey," he said.

"My daughter always used this room."

Ken turned to him, looking alarmed. "I ain't turnin her outta her room, am I?"

"No, no," Ennis said, quickly. "When she moved out here ta stay we built a little bungalow out back so she could have her own place."

Ken blinked, and Ennis regretted having brought it up. He could see the monetary calculations going on behind his brother's eyes. He and Jack weren't millionaires but they were well off, and the last thing he wanted was to seem like he was lording it over anybody or putting on airs. "It's nice you could do that fer her," Ken said, his tone neutral.

"I'da done more. Means a lot ta me ta have her here."

"How long's she been?"

"Bout six months now." Ennis led him back to the hall. "But I guess you'd like ta meet her, huh?" They came back into the living room where Junior and Liz were waiting patiently. "Junior, this here's yer uncle Ken. This is my daughter, Alma Junior."

She came forward, smiling. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Del Mar," she said.

Ken made a face, grasping her hands. "None a that, now. You call me Ken, or Uncle Ken if ya like, okay?"

"Okay," she said, grinning.

Ennis motioned to Liz. "And this here's our friend Liz Baskerville, she manages the ranch office fer us and she lives here too, down in the bungalow with Junior."

"Nice ta meet you, ma'am," Ken said, shaking Liz's hand.

"Please, call me Liz. It's a pleasure to have you here."

The introductions over, Ennis had no idea what came next. He stood there silent, an uncomfortable smile pasted on his face, and might have done so for hours but Junior came to his rescue. "Daddy, why don't we go get some coffee or something? Marianne left us a cheesecake."

"Good idea," Ennis said, pouncing on it. "C'mon, then." They all trooped into the kitchen, Ken looking around with a slightly amazed look on his face, and took seats at the kitchen table. Ennis got out some mugs for the coffee while Liz fetched the cheesecake from the chilly porch.

"Who's Marianne, then?" Ken asked, watching Liz cut the cake. "That yer wife, Ennis?"

"Oh no," Ennis said, glad to have a clear answer. "She's our housekeeper." Liz shot him an alarmed glance, but he didn't see the problem. That was a safe truth, wasn't it?

Ken chuckled, a puzzled frown on his face. "Ya got a housekeeper? What for? Yer wife ain't the lazy type, is she?"

Ennis's stomach dropped down to his knees. He wanted to look to Liz for help but it surely wouldn't be fitting for her or Junior to answer a question about Ennis's own nonexistent wife. He'd have to come up with something himself. "Uh…no, a course she ain't," he said, coughing. "Fact is she's real…active. Helps on the ranch a lot, spends most a her days out on the land with me. Marianne minds the house and cooks fer us." He tried to put on a rueful chuckle, hoping it sounded like this was something of a joke between them. "Better fer everybody, anyhow…she cain't cook fer shit." That, at least, was the truth.

"Huh," Ken said, accepting a cup of coffee. "I guess I'm jus old-fashioned. Seems ta me a wife's job is in the house."

Ennis sat down and handed around the cheesecake. "Yep, I guess you are old-fashioned." He chucked Ken awkwardly on the arm, trying to keep things light.

"So, what is yer wife's name, anyhow?"

Ennis had thought about this and decided what he'd say already. "Jackie," he said. Junior choked a little on her coffee and coughed a few times, waving away Liz's hand on her back.

"That's a nice name," Ken said. "Like that Mrs. Kennedy. She was a real purty lady, real classy."

_For God's sake, change the subject._He didn't have another one handy, was the problem. He and Ken had many things they could discuss, but surely none that could be brought up here, on their first half hour's reacquaintance, with Junior and Liz here. Now was the time for small talk. For what he imagined would be the first of several thousand times, he wished for Jack to help him through this.

Thankfully, Liz was ready to fill Jack's conversational shoes. "So, Ken. What do you think of the ranch?"

Ken shook his head. "I gotta say, I cain't hardly believe it. Nobody in our family amounted ta shit, Ennis, and here ya are master a this place. How many acres is it?"

"Home ranch is 2000 acres," Ennis said. "I know that don't sound like much by Wyomin standards, but we're in Vermont."

"Sounds like a lot ta me, considerin I ain't never had so much's one." Ennis met Ken's eyes, the same brown eyes he saw in the mirror every day, the same ones he remembered from when he was a kid, but now something was different. Ken was looking at him like he was man, Ennis realized, and not just his burdensome kid brother.

_Will he still think I'm a man when he finds out the truth?_

"Sounds like yer doin all right now," Ennis said.

"Yeah, okay. But nothin like yer success. Damn, how'd you come by all this?"

Ennis had thought about this ahead of time, too, and decided upon a slightly massaged version of the truth. "Well…Jackie was married before, like me. Her first husband was real rich and his family didn't like her at all. When they split up she got a bunch a money in the divorce, on the condition that she don't never come back."

Ken blinked. "Damn. That's cold."

"Was just as well. Anyhow, we moved out here and used the money ta start up this place. Got real lucky, met the right buyers, got inta the right markets. Jackie's got a real eye fer cattle breedin. It's her doin that we're even in the black." Ennis had to stop the and take a sip of coffee so he wouldn't choke to death on all those wrong pronouns. _I'm so sorry, Jack. I don't wanna do this. I don't wanna unmake you like yer a story wrote on a chalkboard that I can go back n change what I don't like or even erase entire like it never was._

"She have any kids before?" Ken asked. Ennis sighed inwardly. He sure was curious about "Jackie." _A course he is, he's tryin ta make small talk and show interest in something he thinks you wouldn't mind talkin about, and it's natural ta think that you might like talking about yer wife, he don't know that it's the subject you most want t'avoid. So play the fuck along and act casual._

"No, she didn't," Ennis said, saying another silent apology to Jack for erasing something else about him. He just didn't think it was necessary to either invent kids for his invented wife or tell the truth about Bobby.

"Well, that's a blessin. Splittin up's hardest on the kids. I guess I got kinda lucky there…we split up when the kids was damn near grown, so they was able t'understand some how it was." Ken stopped talking suddenly, colored and glanced at Junior, seeming to realize that he was talking indirectly about Ennis's own divorce in the presence of the daughter who'd lived through it.

"It's okay," Junior said with a smile. "I'm over it."

"So, yer dad says yer goin ta school?" Ken said.

"Sure am," Junior said. "I'm learning business and such so I can help run the ranch."

"That what you want? Purty girl like you, could be a model or an actress or somethin." Junior laughed, blushing, and Ennis gladly let the conversation slide away from the land-mine-filled topics of house and home and marriage. He glanced down at his wedding ring, twirling it on his finger. _This ain't right. The deeper I dig it, the harder it's gonna be ta climb outta the hole. The more tales I spin, the more he's gonna feel deceived. I thought I could just avoid talkin about it but there ain't no way._

But this was the plan they'd agreed on, and he wasn't going to just start veering off at the first sign of discomfort. He'd talk to Jack about it first.

The afternoon and evening passed uneventfully. Ennis came up with excuses about why they shouldn't go into town; the truth was he was terrified of running into some of their friends and having one of them inadvertently spill the beans. He showed Ken the house, then they bundled up and took horses out so he could see the land. Ken showed Ennis some pictures of his kids he'd brought along, and Ennis showed Ken some photo albums that Liz, in her foresight, had doctored so they were only of Junior and Francie and neutral pictures of the ranch's humble beginnings.

As the evening wore on, Ennis found himself relaxing. Ken hadn't asked any more questions about Jackie, and he seemed to have mellowed with age. As a young man, K.E. Del Mar had been hotheaded, opinionated and impatient; quick to anger and fast with his fists. He was still opinionated, but the anger and impatience seemed to have been wrung out of him by life. Ennis wondered if the drinking problems he'd alluded to had anything to do with that.

They sat on the porch with the firepit going, toasty under the branches and some blankets, while Ken smoked a cigar. "I looked around," he said out of a surprisingly comfortable silence, "but I cain't seem ta find one single picture a yer wife."

Ennis tried not to read suspicion into the statement. "Well…she's a bit shy a the camera."

"Oh yeah? She a big girl, is she?"

"No. Jus…camera shy." He suddenly thought of a better explanation. "Besides, she's usually the one takin the pictures."

Ken chuckled. "Yeah, that's why I ain't in none a the family photos neither." He fell silent for a moment. "How long she been gone?"

"Since just after Christmas."

Ken grunted. "Hard havin yer woman away. I never knew what ta do with myself when Barbara'd go visit her sister in Denver."

Ennis nodded. "Yeah."

He snorted. "Well, leastways ya still got a damned housekeeper ta look after ya. I swear, next you'll be havin a butler and somebody ta wipe yer ass for ya!" He cackled laughter. "Never thought I'd have no rich man in the family."

"I ain't rich," Ennis said quickly. That little voice warning him of relatives showing up out of the blue with their hand out put its arm up and asked to speak, but he shushed it fast.

"You say so, but compared ta 99% a the folks I know, includin me, you sure are."

Ennis sighed. "Ya got somethin ta say, go ahead."

"I ain't got nothin ta say. It's a helluva place ya got here, and it sounds like ya worked hard ta make it inta somethin. If it were me I wouldn't be easy knowin it got started on my wife's get-lost money, is all I'm sayin."

Ennis turned his head to watch Ken's profile outlined in the firelight. Funny how he was able to put his finger on the very thing that still bothered Ennis about their success. "We paid all that money back," he said, voicing his own reassurance to himself on this subject. "Not that it's any a yer call ta ask about such things."

"No, a course not. Yer money ain't none a my affair." He turned and met Ennis's eyes. "And I know yer wonderin, but I ain't lookin fer no handout or no charity. I'm doin okay, I don't need no help from the kid who I hadta teach ta jerk off."

Ennis shook his head. "I ain't offerin you no charity."

"Good. All I'm lookin fer is…" He hesitated, then settled a little deeper into his chair. "I dunno what the fuck I'm lookin fer, tell ya the truth."

"Well," Ennis said slowly, "ya split up with yer wife, yer kids grown and gone…maybe yer jus lookin fer some family."

Ken considered this, puffing on his cigar, then nodded. "Reckon yer right, little brother." He stubbed out the cigar and tossed the butt into the fire. "Well…guess I oughta turn in. I was up early this morning, and I'll bet you gotta be up with the sun tomorrow."

"Ranch work never ends." They rose and headed into the house.

"Hey, uh…if ya could use a hand…I'd be glad," Ken said, sounding hesitant.

Ennis stopped and looked at him. "Really? Don't ya wanna sleep and relax? Yer on vacation, ain'tcha?"

Ken flapped a hand. "Wouldn't know how ta relax if ya told me to with a gun ta my head. You get me up when yer getting up and we'll head out together. Like old times, huh?"

"Yeah. Old times."

"You headin ta sleep, then?"

"Well…I'll be callin Jackie first."

"Ya call her before bed?"

"Every night."

Ken nodded, looking a little bit wistful. "Guess ya must miss her, then?"

Ennis sighed. "Awful bad, yeah."

Ken clapped him on the shoulder. "It's a lucky man who blesses his wife's presence and curses her absence, instead a the other way around."

"Guess I'm lucky, then."

"Guess so." Ken glanced at him one more time. "Night, then."

"Night." Ennis opened the door to his bedroom but turned back when Ken said his name from his own bedroom doorway. "What?"

Ken hesitated. "It's damn good ta see you."

Ennis nodded. "Yeah, you too." Ken disappeared into his room and shut the door. Ennis stood there for a moment and considered whether he'd meant that, and was glad to find that he did.


End file.
